Script of the Day #1372

Time flows strangely in the old fern cave, where stalactite teardrops will wet your hair and the rich damp mud licks at your feet. Glancing outside from one vantage point reveals a dim, fern-choked, primeval world, the first waking of the planet; a few steps to the side will bring out the sun, a future into which one can emerge bright and hopeful.

Moments here will fatten and melt easily, and each second is so intimately tied to the next that we can paint scripts into time itself. These glowing words can funnel the future to fulfill wishes and reshape the past to correct regrets, but this medium is difficult to master. As if writing in a dream, words will refuse to take shape, emerging formless and dizzy into the air. Shawnie’s script here is perhaps a very important thought, but I can’t quite decipher it; whether Time could understand remains to be seen.

You can see the splitting of timelines here, at her feet; we may never know what happened in the other universe.

the moon is down