Hello. I have a great story to tell you, and it’s about the Earth people.
The Earth people were quite free. They liked to swim in the asthenosphere and skydive from the moon; the gravity still worked because they never believed it wouldn’t. But gravity didn’t stop them from flying through clouds. They hosted parties in neighbouring galaxies and played tag amongst the stars, and although they never got tired, they always returned home. They were Earth people, after all.
They had a good time. They didn’t eat because they never believed they’d get hungry and didn’t sleep because their dreams were all around them. They carved palaces out of diamonds, danced with tornadoes, played with cats and told stories to each other. They had everything because they never believed they had nothing.
They had a good time, but eventually, they got a bit bored. They got a bit bored of swimming in the asthenosphere and skydiving from the moon, of hosting parties in neighbouring galaxies and playing tag amongst the stars. They got a bit bored of shiny diamonds and breezy typhoons and purring cats. So, being a bit bored, they stopped playing with all that and just shared stories, since they never got bored of sharing stories. But they got a bit bored of their settings, their characters, their plots. Their stories that had everything because they believed in everything got a bit boring to them, but they couldn’t stop sharing them cause what would they do then? So they needed a new story.
The Earth people put their heads together and tried sticking those heads into the planets and the stars, searching for story material in the void of everything they already believed in. It didn’t work. They got a bit discouraged and went back home to share stories on the matter, but the stories were the same old stories and a bit boring.
And so the Earth people continued, a bit bored but still having a good time, until one of them had an idea. This Earth person was no different than any other Earth person and believed in everything that every other Earth person believed in, so who knows how this idea popped into this Earth person’s head. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, or perhaps it would have popped into some other Earth person’s head at some other time even if it hadn’t popped into this one’s, and that person would have shared with the other Earth people what this one was now sharing. Whatever the case, the idea happened.
The Earth person crafted this idea into a story and shared the story with the other Earth people. It is the story of how the Earth people cannot swim in the asthenosphere because it’s too hot and how they cannot skydive from the moon because the gravity is weak and there’s no air. It’s the story of how the Earth people cannot fly through clouds because the gravity is strong and how they cannot visit other galaxies and play tag amongst the stars because it’s too far away and the gravity is weak and there’s no air.
It’s the story of how they have to eat to survive, of how they have to sleep to stay wakeful and dream dreams that aren’t around them anymore. It’s the story of how it takes them countless years of hardship to make palaces of stone and the story of how tornadoes destroy those palaces in minutes. It’s the story of how cats have nine lives because one just isn’t enough.
It’s the story of pain. The story of death. The story of war.
The Earth person shared this story and the Earth people weren’t bored anyone. They had a good time with it, actually, until they realized that the good times were over. They tried to soar up and could only hop. They tried to swim in the ocean and drowned. They tried to dance with the wind but were embarrassed by their clumsiness. They tried not to eat and starved, tried not to sleep and went to sleep forever. They slaughtered their cats because they wanted nine more lives.
The Earth people were never bored again. Not even a bit. Even so, they wished they could go back. They wanted to take back the story, but the story happened. They believed in that story and then stopped believing.
*
This story was easier to write than I expected, probably because a template was given. I had the most trouble with the ending in that I wanted to evoke the assigned meaningfulness in a way that suited this specific story. The result is that I’ve kind of tacked another meaning on, which I can now no longer take back.
My friend liked the story’s repetition but couldn’t relate to it. Honestly, I can’t either, and perhaps that’s the point.
Works Cited
McNeill, Abbey. “Which Cat Breed Are You?” Playbuzz. Playbuzz, 7 Mar. 2015. Web. 29 May 2015.
