Welcome to Tuesday Night Fiction!
I would place tonight’s story firmly in the realm of strange fiction and I think it’s great. Our author, Candy Ray, is a practicing chaos magician who writes with the assistance of her muse, Ino. In fact, this story belongs to Ino according to Candy Ray. Ino seems to have a unique viewpoint of humanity and shares a parable about how we, as humans, believe we are in control. Ino demonstrates that in reality, we control nothing. It is all given to chaos.
This fiction has a surreal quality that reminds me of a slow walk through a waking dream. It will not appeal to all but I think if you read through it a couple of times you’ll see new layers here and there which bring up new questions. So, without further ado, enjoy tonight’s short story and don’t forget to check out Candy Ray’s blog for further reading.
By Ino (via Candy Ray)
There it goes, endlessly spinning, spinning. This top I chose to demonstrate my model of reality spins on and on, and still after fifteen minutes it hasn’t come to a stop.
I am poised in the air above a mountain doing my demonstration. If we were all still in the lecture hall I would have to place the top on a table, on the raised stage in front of the audience, where its oscillations would describe so elegantly my theory that I have enshrined in a new science textbook that came out this year.
But as a bomb fell on the lecture hall, and we were all dead, the clear air above this mountain became the ideal spot for my demonstration, and we illustrate my theory in our own selves as we orbit the central sun above the mountain.
Michael, the sun archangel, stands above us holding to that point, and I shall face him boldly with my theory that our universe is a top. Should he disagree he will be the one spinning, for I will set him spinning until he begs me to stop.
Among the audience, I hear a voice. “Look at her! She incarnates on Earth, turns science as we know it on its head, attracts an assassin who didn’t care that the whole roomful of us was included in the assassination, and now defies our solar lord! This demon scientist is bad news for us all.”
“A heckler!” I cry. “You come up here, sir, and take hold of the top, and show us all how it’s done.”
“You think you are still at that learned society, which will now have to replace its hall!” he answers back. “They will build another one in time, but we are people and we can never be replaced.”
“String theory, top theory,” I reply. “How long is a piece of string, and does a spinning top ever stop? You keep going in a loop, so there is no need to replace you.”
Science was always cold: now it has hit freezing point.