The World That Wasn't

Below is a memory transcription of Thomas ‘Ald-Mera’ as interpreted by Sidereal Saria Octiavia, Third Chronicler of the House of Elda.

Thomas is believed to have lived during the second upheaval.

BEGIN SESSION 1

Thomas wasn’t sure of much anymore.

He had always tried to avoid plans, but throughout his life there had been a number of hopes.

He hoped he would be an inventor.

He hoped he would be a scientist (also probably inventor)

He hoped he would find out he was actually an alien, or a witch, or his parents at least weren’t actually his.

He hoped would find a nice girl and settle down early. Would get married. Have kids. Buy a house.

As he sat on a picnic table in the same yard he grew up in, now aged 29, lighting up another bowl in the not-snow and waiting for the car to warm up so he could head into work; he mostly hoped traffic wouldn’t be crap.

Single, working in a field he constantly thought of abandoning (except what was any better?), living with his parents again after a car wreck and apartment fire. At least they didn’t mind his smoking these days, as long as it was outside.

The sun hadn’t risen yet, and frost was still on the ground. Of course no snow. Seemed snow was out of the picture these days. God forbid the weather be interesting as well as dreary. But it was pretty today, the sky was so clear, with just the slightest hint of light on the horizon and the moon hanging full and centered in the bowing tree line.

Thomas set his eyes upward, just were the exhaust from his car faded, where the moon stat heavy, and let the little spots in his eyes trace lines across the sky, dancing around each other and bisecting in ever more complicated forms until the sky surrounding the moon looked like the cracks in a hole punched through glass.

A shiver went down his spine. That feeling when you walk through a spider web. That feeling when you hear a song from your childhood, that one amazing riff.

Then a sudden crack from a tree bough breaking. The lights scattered, the lines falling like threads. The illusion of a tired morning broken. The car was probably warmed up anyways.

END SESSION 1

The World That Wasn't

Bound Dreams bagelbyheart