There is a book, in which, each time it is read, new pages appear between the others, as though one page peels into two pages, adding new parts of information that fits perfectly between the content on the prior pages, picking up mid-sentence or dialog. The book grows heavier over time, adding new pages to the histories, mythologies, or stories.
A librarian once postulated that eventually all that is possible to write will appear in the book, given enough time and the passion of readers to come and peruse the pages, and return again to linger over familiar sections to reveal the newly created portions hidden between them. Others have said that there are many such books, each waiting to be read, to be given life and grow. Still others postulate that even these arguments remain unseen in the book, along with explanations of the mechanics of the book buried between the increasing number of pages, some that contradict each other, many expressed plausibly, while others delve into madness and fantasy. Most, however, agree that, eventually, the book itself will come to a last page, a last dividing, a final moment of revelation.
What happens after that is anyone’s guess, but if you should chance upon this ancient growing tome, and you take a moment to read a passage, thereby creating new pages for the next reader, you may stumble upon an answer to these questions that resonates with you and satisfies your curiosity. If so, you will be well and truly blessed.