บท 30: Interlude-2 A Boy Creates
The boy stared at the endless golden string surrounded by similarly coloured shards in his hand. He had created it although he did not know why, nor did he know what he wanted to create from it. What did the boy want to create? He pondered on the thought as he paced around in the vast gold that he was in.
The boy realised something. He didn't like where he was but enjoyed the golden aesthetic however he was still not happy with the shapeless void, so he settled for something else. With a snap of his fingers the golden expanse gained something which the boy dubbed as shape. A room. There was now a floor beneath his feet, a floor that had a golden coloured mist covering it like fluffy clouds. The room was still endless, however. No matter how far you go up, forwards, backwards, left or right, there was no wall to be found. The boy liked that.
He turned his attention back to beyond endless string that fit perfectly in his hand. Why had he created it? What did he want to do with it? The boy thought. He sat down and thought. He thought for billions and billions of years, or he thought for but an instant. Perhaps thought for neither and both at once. He decided he wanted to create something. Something entertaining, something that could get rid of this uncomfortable feeling he'd felt since he appeared in the golden expanse. But what should he call it? He felt that every creation needed a name. So far, he'd named everything that his thoughts had created. Including words. He liked that name for the different terms within his head. Word. It just sounded right. But what should he call the thing in his hand that he wanted to create from?
What about… hagh, no. Maybe… strony. No, no definitely not.
Pt…
Pl…
Plo…
Plot.
PLOT!
That sounded good! Plot. Ok that's one but what about some other names.
Sty…
Ory…
Story!
Also, good but what about naative…
Tive...?
Narr…
Narrative!
Three names for this thing in his hand. Plot, Story and Narrative. But which one should he choose…?
…
…
Narrative!
That's what the boy chose. It just rolled off the tongue right, but he didn't want to get rid of the other names as they just sounded too good. He decided that all three would mean the same thing but would be used on a much smaller scale within what he had in mind for this golden line in his hand, The Narrative.
Now how would he define this name and or word for this thing he was going to create?
As the boy contemplated this, he crushed The Narrative in his hand to dust before recreating it again, over and over as the cogs in his mind whirred before finally coming up with a definition.
"A telling or description of a series of connected/progressive events."
It was the first time the boy had spoke. But it was unlike any voice that would eventually be created. It had no sound, yet it could be heard clearly. It was both a yell and whisper at the same time while also being neither. His voice, like the boy's entire being and everything linked to him, didn't make sense.
The boy for the first time felt excitement, that's the word he decided to name this new feeling and set to work on the grand story that The Narrative would dictate and control.
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