The Scar

Tearfly looked at Bellis curiously, bewildered by her ignorance. She did not care. What was important to her was where she was fleeing from, not where she was, or where she was going.

For every action, there’s an infinity of outcomes. Countless trillions are possible, many milliards are likely, millions might be considered probable, several occur as possibilities to us as observers—and one comes true.

She felt so alien, bowed under culture shock as crippling as migraine.

I’m not waiting to die, I don’t believe I’ll die, I am waiting for something else.

To arrive. To understand. To be at my destination.

Neither dust nor light stirred. It was as if time had been bled dry and given up.

We say what happens now. We’re taking control. We’re turning around; we’re heading home. Your orders to proceed...are in-fucking-validated.