Ch. 53: The New Calamity
Drip. Drip.
"WHAT ARE STORIES...? JUST WORDS ON A BOOK? EMOTIONS CLUSTERED TOGETHER BY LINES OF INK? STORIES ARE A COLLECTION OF LIVES AND HISTORY... BUT WHO DICTATES A STORY'S ENDING?!
A WRITER....? A READER.... ? OR... A GOD!?
A dense, white fog obscured my vision. The ground beneath me felt soft, almost too soft—like I was resting on clouds. I raised my hands. Thin, bony fingers stared back at me, familiar and yet foreign. I was back in my old body. Panic scratched at the edges of my consciousness, but I forced myself to calm my breath. The cloudy landscape stretched endlessly around me, haunting in its emptiness. Where was he? That meddling bastard...