Chapter 1: Here
Chapter 2: Here
The sky opened a gaping hole in the universe from above and vomited on everything below. The ground was covered in all directions by an ever growing deluge. The shoddily constructed dwellings were swallowed up by the ever expanding waters. I sat on a hill at a distance watching.
I was drenched, but I didn’t move. There was no shelter for me to seek anyway.
I raised my muddied and scabbed hand in front of my face, I framed it with one of Nave’s moons...some of these people had given it a name, but I wondered what it called itself, and how it felt when it looked down on all these people scrambling around trying to save themselves from the storm. Pointless.
I brought my hand closer, I was enamored with all the little waving lines that traversed my palm, I was certain if I stared long enough I’d see the pattern and the universe would speak to me.
Subconsciously without even thinking my other hand was hopelessly flopping around inside my bag looking for that small vial...the one I now carried with me at all times. I finally found it and pulled the cork enclosure out with my teeth on the side of my mouth that wasn’t sore. I inverted the vial with the opening now clenched in my teeth, it took what felt like an eternity for that viscous fluid to slowly slowly drip down into my mouth.
I fell back hard, and stared up at the midnight sky as it spun around and around. I stared up into the atmosphere and began to track each and every drop of rain that fell, I could see them all!
They fell so fast they hit the ground in layers, but I saw each and every drop and traced them back into the sky.
I saw their origins.
I watched in awe as the sky gave birth to each and every one. Each one was unique, yet each one was the same, they were like kin, racing to their eventual demise.
They would kill each other just to get there first, to have their matter transferred into the earth, absorbed into something else, change shape and form, eventually born again on some other nondescript night, during some other destructive storm which would send the crowds scattering once again. An endless cycle.
Time and again I was shown other shapes, and other forms, but never a real answer.
Why could it not be plain?
Surely there was a purpose to it all, but many things were being hidden from me, I was certain of that.
It was as if I was yet undeserving to see and know, so I was only shown glimpses, and they grew shorter and shorter.
I had given up on trying to take control of the visions... they were too brief and too precious, and oftentimes sickening.
I had slowly come to realize how small I was, how inconsequential my entire existence was.
I was nothing, a scab on some hand that wouldn’t heal.
So who was I to try and direct them? I felt that if I tried again I might be expelled from seeing beyond this veil altogether.
I’d rather die than to never see these visions again. I felt my life was only lived in those brief moments of complete awe.
And in an instant it was over.
When I awoke from the fever dream, retching and heaving, I raised my eyes to see the land around me.
It was morning now and the storm had passed, the villagers were busy scurrying around assessing the damages, preoccupied with these useless novelties.
I felt dead inside.
Chapter 2: Here
The sky opened a gaping hole in the universe from above and vomited on everything below. The ground was covered in all directions by an ever growing deluge. The shoddily constructed dwellings were swallowed up by the ever expanding waters. I sat on a hill at a distance watching.
I was drenched, but I didn’t move. There was no shelter for me to seek anyway.
I raised my muddied and scabbed hand in front of my face, I framed it with one of Nave’s moons...some of these people had given it a name, but I wondered what it called itself, and how it felt when it looked down on all these people scrambling around trying to save themselves from the storm. Pointless.
I brought my hand closer, I was enamored with all the little waving lines that traversed my palm, I was certain if I stared long enough I’d see the pattern and the universe would speak to me.
Subconsciously without even thinking my other hand was hopelessly flopping around inside my bag looking for that small vial...the one I now carried with me at all times. I finally found it and pulled the cork enclosure out with my teeth on the side of my mouth that wasn’t sore. I inverted the vial with the opening now clenched in my teeth, it took what felt like an eternity for that viscous fluid to slowly slowly drip down into my mouth.
I fell back hard, and stared up at the midnight sky as it spun around and around. I stared up into the atmosphere and began to track each and every drop of rain that fell, I could see them all!
They fell so fast they hit the ground in layers, but I saw each and every drop and traced them back into the sky.
I saw their origins.
I watched in awe as the sky gave birth to each and every one. Each one was unique, yet each one was the same, they were like kin, racing to their eventual demise.
They would kill each other just to get there first, to have their matter transferred into the earth, absorbed into something else, change shape and form, eventually born again on some other nondescript night, during some other destructive storm which would send the crowds scattering once again. An endless cycle.
Time and again I was shown other shapes, and other forms, but never a real answer.
Why could it not be plain?
Surely there was a purpose to it all, but many things were being hidden from me, I was certain of that.
It was as if I was yet undeserving to see and know, so I was only shown glimpses, and they grew shorter and shorter.
I had given up on trying to take control of the visions... they were too brief and too precious, and oftentimes sickening.
I had slowly come to realize how small I was, how inconsequential my entire existence was.
I was nothing, a scab on some hand that wouldn’t heal.
So who was I to try and direct them? I felt that if I tried again I might be expelled from seeing beyond this veil altogether.
I’d rather die than to never see these visions again. I felt my life was only lived in those brief moments of complete awe.
And in an instant it was over.
When I awoke from the fever dream, retching and heaving, I raised my eyes to see the land around me.
It was morning now and the storm had passed, the villagers were busy scurrying around assessing the damages, preoccupied with these useless novelties.
I felt dead inside.
