Erased

While there have been many theories about the nature of reality, very few come close to the truth. Most are nonsensical ideas about strings, energy, turtles, and gods. Reality itself defies metaphor, is difficult to articulate through imagery. There are points that can be understood, though, intersections approachable by the human mind, that can come to a semblance of lucid explanation. And while, if one of these moments were witnessed, one could go away with a sense of elucidation, as if they had experienced a revelation that unveiled the world beyond the world, the witness would be wrong. The small piece of the universe that they had seen was only that, a small piece of the universe. Not a billionth of a billionth of the true nature had been revealed.

But still, it would be true, and it would be profound.

One such intersection, a piece of reality where a sliver of the corner of the edge was peeled back to display a brief flash of nature's true nature, I bring to you today. It is a tale of woe. Or joy. Or neither. The tale can be told and understood in many ways, and you, the reader, will be the judge. So sit back relax while I tell you the tale when two pieces of reality touched, and one was left changed.

"Sally! What are you doing in there?"

The voice of her mother brought Sally out of her focused state. How long had she been huddled over the little table in her room? Just a few moments? A few hours? Even at her young age, Sally knew that the stiffness in her body was evidence that she had been sitting for an extended period of time.

"Just making a list, mommy!" she called back.

The other evidence was the paper. Where had all this paper come from? Reams of it, stacked as tall as she was, surrounded her. On both sides of each page were lists of things, people, concepts. Some of the words were familiar, some were alien to her. What the heck was a 'gastropoda'? And yet Sally had the distinct idea that every word, every letter on those pages, she had written. It was as if some mystical **** had guided her pencil, told her what to write. She had been, for a while, the archivist of the universe, recording everything that had ever been.

But that's just silly. Sally was only seven!

The door opened a crack and her mother's head popped inside.

"Wow!" the older woman breathed, taking in the sight of the room populated by one little girl and the remains of a forest, "You've been busy! That's quite a list."

"Yeah," she said with a toothy grin, "It kinda got away from me."

"Well, supper's going to be in twenty minutes," her mother said, "I want you washed up before you come down. Maybe you should tidy this up a bit, too."

The door closed again, leaving Sally with her opus. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she should tidy it up. Did the list need to be as long as it was? Did there need to be so many things?

Purposefully, she grabbed one piece of paper, picked a random item, then used the eraser on the back of her pencil to remove it from the list.

"There," she said, "that's enough for now. Maybe I'll do more later."

Then she got up and left the room. There was washing up to do and supper to be had.

Meanwhile, in another universe....

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Hi folks! Creating an open story here! Thought this concept might be fun to have some creative ideas. To start your own tree, title it as so:

NAME OF CHARACTER - THING THAT SALLY ERASED - WHETHER THE CHARACTER IS AWARE OR UNAWARE

That's it! Have fun!

- Mr Nice Guy

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