The Space Between Worlds (The Space Between Worlds #1)

by Micaiah Johnson

Time is flat. We process it linearly, but everything is happening at once, always.

The universe erases me, but it also remakes me again and again, so there must be something worthwhile in this image.

“The phenomenon of death is just the separation of the astral body from the physical body. It is the five elements of the body returning to their source. In the divine plan, every union must end with separation. Whether it was now, twenty years ago, or twenty years in the future, you were always going to lose her. We are pilgrims at an inn. When we leave is immaterial, because we are only meant to leave.”

Every year walled cities get richer and more developed, and every year rural provinces get poorer and sicker. The other side of the scale tips down because of their rise, and they do nothing to balance it. I’m supposed to care about these five, when they have ignored entire plagues just outside these walls? I will give their deaths the same courtesy they’ve given the deaths of my people and yours. I’m going to kindly look away.”

Murder has a cycle just like water. In the same way water becomes a cloud, then becomes water again, when blood calls for vengeance the blood from that vengeance calls too. If you plan to give death, it will always return to you.

I stretch out to touch Nyame’s muzzle eagerly, and the energy doesn’t withdraw. I let her know she’s going to be alone again. But then I see pictures of shamans in trances and dancers in drum circles and children sleeping and I know she’s never been alone. She’s never needed us. There have always been those who transcend, and traversing is just one way to walk between worlds.

In the dark she reaches out to me, because no one is lost. It is not a testament to affection for me, but a fact of her existence. She finds us in the in-between places, cradling individuals in the same way she cradles the whole world.