Between now and then, an antipode came to me. I fed myself to it and then it inscribed to me a question.
Why did you sign at me, filament?
I signed to it as follows:
I don't usually do this. I'm not very good at it. I just felt like saying hello, you know?
You'll be back, won't you?
And with that, the antipode left my attic, leaving me wondering if my attempts at communication are doomed to failure.