1.

A certain M. Deschamps, when a boy in Orléans, was once given a piece of plum-pudding by a M. de Fortigbu.

Ten years later he discovered another plum-pudding in a Paris restaurant, and asked if he could have a piece. It turned out, however, that the plum-pudding was already ordered – by M. de Fortgibu.

Many years afterwards M. Deschamps was invited to partake of a plum-pudding as a special rarity. While he was eating it, he remarked that the only thing lacking was M. de Fortgibu. At that moment the door opened and an old, old man in the last stages of disorientation walked in: M. de Fortgibu who had got hold of the wrong address and burst in on the party by mistake.

2.

John Morgan read out loud to the people gathered there the anecdote Carl Jung cited from the memoirs of French poet Émile Deschamps and which has now become a famous case of triple-synchronicity involving plum-pudding.  As he finished the last sentence, he looked down to right and saw the words PLUM PUDDING blocked onto the front boards of a book lying on the table next to him. In disbelief, he held the book up to show everyone. The book was brought into room 106 by P, who had designed this cover.

3.

The shower of innumerable time.

We are passing through a truly strange time.

Since you disappeared, nameless days have drifted by, and a quiet dust has settled on the bookshelf.

Every now and then, I buy a few plums and ate them for no reason, even though I don’t particularly like them.

And now, finally, I am on my way to the island where you live.

Riding the wind, once I land on damp ground, the air of this island flowed through me.

I set out, not knowing why I’m drawn there, not even certain if I’ll find you or if I want to see you.

But perhaps that doesn’t matter.

Just the fact that I’ve started to wonder—this beginning—already means that something has set in motion.

Hesitation itself, I believe, signals a shift; its mere presence already changes things.

Once something stirs in us, we cannot go on as if it never existed, even if we don’t act on it.

I’m not a pessimist, but unlike you, I can’t say that life is filled with joy, light, and celebration.

I have witnessed the world’s overflowing tragedies, sorrows, and injustices

Because of this, I cannot turn away from the darker side of life,

and I aim to walk in the direction I believe to be right, without forgetting this duality.

This path I’m on, however, may not align with the choices and direction that have brought me here, to see you.

Would I find you again?

To me, life and the world appear as a vast tangle of thousands of histories and

millions of insignificant personal stories—like fine dust and ash suspended in the air.

I believe in the significance that arises from encounters between worlds,

the effects that occur when such connections are made, and the meaning born from those chance meetings.

Like my plum pudding that once ended up in your hands.

But does pure coincidence truly exist?

And what is the plum pudding I try to make?