Disperser, Week Ten – The Guest

by disperser

I switched things around a bit . . . this is a postscript for this week’s story The Guest.

I did not want to mess the story up with an intro, you see.

I don’t believe in anything supernatural.  I don’t believe in ghosts, spirits, or other essences of what were once living, breathing, functional beings. We are material beings with, arguably, an overly-inflated sense of importance.  Most believe themselves to be more than they are, and ascribe to all manners of fantasy to both elevate themselves above other life, and to tenuously cling to the wild hope something of themselves will survive the transition of the body into death.  I think them delusional.

BUT . . .

That does not mean I cannot venture into that arena, look around, and give my own spin on things.  Of course, I don’t explain anything.  I have ideas of how this might work, but the very nature of the story is a violation of causality.  It’s a paradox people often deal with when writing about time travel.

For this story, if James prevents the girl from being killed because of her actively pushing him to it, then there would be no ghost that “travels” back in time to help prevent the act . . . and hence the girl would in fact be killed.

It’s a poser, alright.

BUT . . .

What if there are parallel dimensions?  What if near ones are nearly identical to ours, with farther ones diverging more and more from what we are familiar with?

For this story I imagined a girl who did, in fact, die.  What if she could “slip” between dimensions, and in doing so, effectively time travel.  She would not be able to prevent her own murder, but what about all the dimensions closest to her own?  What if this is one of many scenarios being repeated across a number of similar, but parallel dimensions?

Like James, we don’t know.  It could be that . . . or it could be crap I made up that makes no sense at all, and only serves as a vehicle to present  what I thought was an interesting story.  Not only that, I get to incorporate one of my favorite shows in the narrative.

Maybe that’s enough.  

I hope it was enough for the readers.

I also naturally fell into a stilted narrative.  It’s a one character story.  The style of writing duplicates the way people think.  Or at least the way I think.  I don’t think in full narrative.  Thoughts come and go; they are not a discourse.

. . . my apologies to them who subscribe to my blog; this is a reposting of what I put up a few weeks ago.  I’m working on fresh material for next week, but I’m somewhat proud of this effort, and figure it deserves a place among my offerings at Legends Undying.


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