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Barry once spoke. Knew words. How to string them together in an order that seems almost alien now, if now were a concept that didn’t slip through his metaphorical fingers. Here is equally slippery because the Speedforce simply is. He simply is, as he will be. Whole in a way he cannot be anywhere else.
He thinks in pictures, strings of symbols that are not really so. Not lines. Not linear, he vaguely recalls. Circular signs and circular thoughts, encompassing everything he knows, will know. He still feels, so much at once. Moods that soar as the stars sing, distance meaningless to him. He thinks of Iris. Not simply as she was but as every moment she’ll be, of everything that makes her her in his history. The swoop of what would make him smile in another dimension flourishes in his being at that.
And he thinks of Eddie. Forgetting the impossibility, the incredulity another instance of him will feel one day. For many days after that shining fixed point in his timeline that diverges from other worlds. Instead, that reality hits all at once, and feels more real in this space, with the depth of foreknowledge shadowing it. Those emotions are limitless, multiplied almost endlessly by all he is/has been witness to.
When they pull him out, everything’s out of order because it must shift back into an order. He still remembers so much; the sprawl of his life – and the universe - laid before him gloriously. The stars singing. Every detail that he cherishes in an instantaneous collage of moments. Except, it’s too much to comprehend. Slowly, it slips away. Then Iris snaps into place and this Barry returns. Deep down though, there’s a song as yet unsung. A Barry ready and waiting for what will come.