Question your Reality
Semblance of a Story
Foddle plucked at a strand and giggled. It vibrated, setting a volcano to erupt on a distant world. The lava was pretty. She plucked another strand, and a hole opened up between two planets, causing a black hole to devour them both. Her eyes went wide at the sight. Such marvelously beautiful lights. Like fireworks. She liked fireworks.
The piercing blue set off a chain of thoughts. She saw the threads for what they were, a woven tapestry of fate. Foddle blanched, realizing what she had just done, sending two worlds to their doom. Her mind raced, constructing an ad-hoc symphony that she plucked upon the strands of time, drawing the two worlds back from the brink if destruction.
She neared the end of her composition, but couldn’t remember the last note. Her brief moment of clarity was fading.
Foddle saw a vast tapestry of strings laid out before her, ripe for the plucking. She giggled and reached for one.
What if people could fly, but for every minute flying they had to spend a full day so heavy that they couldn’t move? Would flight be worth it?