A Preview

Coming soon…

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There is a house that is not a house in the middle of nowhere, just a stone’s throw from everywhere and within walking distance from the imagination of a wise man. It is a sprawling construct that occupies no space and towers into the colourless skies above the realm that is not. It manifests as an octagon to those eyes that can see it, with a tower at each corner and one at the centre.

Behind this house there is a garden. This garden is occupied for the most part by a maze; only it is not really a maze for there are many entrances and many exits which are all the same. Those who can see enough of the garden at once know that the maze is but one entity, one tree – the tree of life. All mortals walk paths in this garden and are forced to choose, not once but a multitude of times as the paths fork, spiral, branch, reconnect and diverge. They walk under the scorching sun in the pitch black pathways of the garden, trudging forward with nothing but a lantern of hope to guide them and they leave nothing but footprints in the soil beneath their feet. There are always entities walking in this garden, most are mortal, some are not. Walking, from the night before creation till the day after the end of time and even beyond for the garden is more expansive than existence. The owner of the house is the tender of the garden and his name is Destiny.

Destiny is the first son of time and knows all her secrets. To those who can see him, he manifests as a long haired dirty old man, draped in grey robes and walking barefoot. His worn robe sweeps the mud and soil along the pathways as he walks through the garden, his garden. Destiny sees all paths, knows the outcome of all walks and observes the entities that wander through his carefully tended garden, trying to unravel his secrets. But Destiny would never tell anyone his secrets. Destiny keeps his secrets, for silence was the price of knowledge and absolute knowledge required absolute silence.

Destiny tends the garden of forking ways in which all – all that is, and all will be, and all that are not yet – choose their paths. He clears the paths that the preordained may occur as it was intended to occur. He has no path of his own. He makes no decisions. He has no choices. He does not encounter forking ways and does not select paths of discernment. His way is laid out, drawn for him by the Creator through endless eternity. Told to him by his mother.  Defined from the beginning of beginnings to the end of ends.

As Destiny walks through his garden at a time which is simultaneously today, yesterday and tomorrow he stops as he must in the spot where he should and watches as a wilted flower falls from a branch on the tree of the life which he has never pruned before. Destiny knows this branch well and knows what he must now do. He must call another family meeting… for one of them must die.

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A supernatural tale of things that be not as though they were. Inspired by the echoes of the gong first beaten by Neil Gaiman. Written in collaboration with six others. Keep an eye on what Afro Says 

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8 thoughts on “A Preview

  1. Ah, yes. There’s more. Don’t you go getting me started only to say that’s the end. I’ll be renting a popcorn machine in the days ahead.

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