| "What is this place?" you ask. "This place?" She smiles fondly, running her fingers over the fat book she was writing in. "This is my creation, my world." "Your world?" you ask in disbelief. "But you can't--" Her eyes flash with irritance. "Don't tell me what I can or can't do in my world. Here, I am god. Look out the window. In a few seconds you Manie will pass. The man with the limp." You look over, and sure enough, just as you do, you notice a man hobble slowly past the window. "He's on his way to the city gates," she explains when you turn back, "to beg for his daily bread." She smiles again, fondly, as she scribes another blue word in her book. "But today he's going to get something a little different..." |
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