The Game of Worlds [WRC]

Two friends who were with me that day said I had executed what seemed to be a perfect back dive off the cliff. I don't remember that, or even backing up to the edge.

I do remember feeling a tugging sensation from my midriff, pulling me backward. I leaned forward and placed my hands firmly on a tree. The tugging continued as my visual range of view contracted. My palms pulled from the tree, fingers still touching but stretching like pulled taffy. Then blackness, and a sliding backward.

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First, a sound; like a shotgun shell tipped over, spilling scores of BBs, bouncing and rolling across a hard surface, as if across a tabletop. My first sight, was an individual grey BB, growing larger, as if drawing closer to my point of view, a sphere. I heard, then, a steady low buzz.

As the sphere grew closer, it flattened out into an ovoid, and began to wobble left and right. The buzz fluctuated in volume in sync with the wobble. Closer, closer, until my whole field of view held only the oval.

Then the laughter started; two voices, one to the left, one to the right. Darkness turned to light, the steady light of fog, only fog, that's all there was.

"That was great!", a voice exclaimed from the left.

"Who should go next?", from the right.

That's when I slowly began to remember, the Game of Worlds that the three of us, eternal beings of pure consciousness played upon one another, an amusement to pass the endless time, in endless fog.

Before I could fully gather my wits in order to respond with any personal preference, from the left came, "I've got an idea. Lets put him right back in the same one. That would be different."

"Yes, let's do that. I don't mind waiting for a turn", from the right, "It might actually be worth it."

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Back I was then, lying at the bottom of the cliff. I got up then, looked up at my friends peering over the edge, beat the dust off of my clothes, and started scrambling up the rough trail to the right of the cliff.

"That was strange", I said, when I'd gotten back to the top.

"Yeah!" replied my friends together.

"How long was I down there?", I asked.

"Just a couple of seconds from the time you hit and when you got back up."

"Hit? What do you mean hit?", I asked, "It felt like I was sliding backward."

"No. No sliding, perfect back dive straight to the bottom. No sliding about it."

"Was it funny?" I asked, "Is that why you were laughing?"

"We weren't laughing." They both replied.

"What is it that you were talking about?"

"Nothing man, we were just staring. It was only a couple of seconds."

"Okay." I thought about how to handle it. "Best just to forget all about this then."

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I've done a pretty good job of forgetting it. Over the years, though, every once in a while I remember. One third of all the power that exists, yet living in a game, with reduced power of influence. Just how far can I exert my will, push the boundaries, without ending my turn? A perplexing question.

This turn of mine at the game must have gone on longer than expected. I've grown accustomed to physical life. I enjoy it. The people are actually real, just as real and individual as I am. The animals too. All this individual life, with individual hopes, dreams, aspirations.

Any day, any time, my turn will end. When it does, I will try to keep this world going and living, somehow, from the outside, from in the fog. Maybe together, the three of us can do it, if I convince the other two.

The left has joined me in the game, unseen in this world. She's made herself known to me though, in many ways. The right has shown his presence once. By presence, I mean, PRESENCE, the kind that makes what's normally real and solid fade away to nothing.

There are gods here too, with their own lives and purposes that they choose to serve for the continuance of this World. I've met a few, more goddesses than gods.

I have noticed at least two gods who have turned to malevolence, destructive beings, quite insane, that have fed themselves through nihilist ideologies and religions that threaten the continuation of life here in this World. These, I will fight, in any way that I can, with whatever allies I may gain, whether Eternal, immortal, or mortal.

The laughter may begin at any time, signaling the end of my turn. That's true, but in the meantime, I fight on, as a man.

Errm I am sorry to tell you that you fell into the astral realm and were a victim of astral jokers or hyperspace jokers as I have been. I was shown they could wipe my existence not only my life here and now but me ever being here. Nobody would know I existed EVER. You don't know lonely until you experience that, and it lasted ages in there time.

Great story though.

Just thought that might not be your story so if not please ignore.

I think there are oddities in reality where they won't be noticed so much, except probably a person who it directly affected, but the reason for this particular instance is actually for someone else's sake, if that makes any sense. It does to me, for example, I do something ridiculously dangerous, knowing ahead of time I am more likely to die than not, but do it anyway, then am miraculously saved from my own foolishness, then it may not have been to save me so much but the "saving" was only "observed" by me through personally experiencing it, but it was so I could lend assistance to someone else in the future where it could not be "hidden" but would be observable to many.

reply to post by AsuspiciousMANappears

Hyperspace jokers, ha. Really funny joke. That would explain the laughter. Still, the last paragraph applies, never the less. We can only play the hand dealt.

Just thought that might not be your story so if not please ignore.

I didn't hear it from someone else if that's what you mean. I was hoping that Fiction would be assumed. Then someone would ask, "Where do you get your inspiration?"

Then I could reply: I read a lot of Philip Jose Farmer (World of Tiers series), and Roger Zelazny (Amber series), and Stephen R. Donaldson (Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever series)

Here I am, scripting replies for other people, surely that means I'm a writer? Hint: winners are chosen by stars and flags.

reply to post by pthena


Your story stands on it's own merit, the ruler decided by the whims of youth. Well done. SnF.

It's interesting how you write.

reply to post by Druid42

Thank you. Whim of youth sounds so much better than cosmic joker.

If it weren't for the setup of the contest, I could have called it something like, "Emergence From Solipsism: Is pathological narcissism terminal?".