These Worlds

Trying to write something everyday

“So where do they go,” I asked “these worlds?”

 

The subject was dreams, dream worlds to be precise.

Only moments before she had postulated that we, in sleep, shape universes.

She theorized that each of us was capable of creating realities, that we did so each night for pleasure…or escape… or out of sheer boredom.

With a straight face she called us ‘Gods bound by flesh’, and with a straight face I ordered another pair of coffees.

Undaunted by the deities before him the waiter sleepily fulfilled the request and moved on.

Fresh coffee in hand she continued… ‘And yet, even as gods we are restricted. I don’t think we can visit the same universe twice… too many little details.’

I nodded knowingly, something I imagine most gods do in situations like this, when they find themselves grossly out of their depth

She was not convinced

She continued

‘…and as far as I can tell we get one shot, one chance to mold the very fabric of Being itself before it sets. Then all we can do is saunter through it and observe our work.’

‘…and then we wake up?’ I asked, opting to express a more inquisitive disposition rather than my previous sage-like incompetence

‘And then we wake up.’ She said, opting to humor me.

‘So where do they go,’ I asked ‘these worlds?’

She thought on it for a moment

‘I like to think that they keep going, even after we wake up. If so who’s to say someone in this new universe couldn't do the exact same thing, pass it along as it were? In either case I should get going, it’s been nice talking to you but I think it’s almost morning.’

I glanced at my watch

Half past noon

When I looked up again she was gone

With a straight face I ordered another coffee

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Marie]

This is a good, original concept. You need to do more with it.

[J]

Thanks, I would certainly like to revisit this and expand on it a bit in the future.