Important Souls

The universe actively doesn't care about you.

And that's not because it lacks the ability to care, it cares deeply about many things, all of them revolving around its life cycle. The specifics of the laws of physics and gravity and such inside it are important and monitored.

But life, people? There are only three souls that matter to the universe.

The leftover soul that was the sole survivor of the last universe.
The soul that is destined to survive into the next universe.
And Driox Eutob, of Anzurt 6, the greatest soul singer ever.

It can have musical tastes!

Lock And Loaded

I wasn't trying to develop time travel technology, at least not the 88 miles per hour in a flashy car type that most people know of. I was trying to work out how to temporal lock things, mainly food and drugs. Removing the need for conventional refrigeration would save so much energy and help so many people.

But I accidently inverted the semi-tachyon flow and I locked myself for about fifty years.

Now, on one hand, with some refinement, this is an amazing achievement in human history.

But more importantly humanity pretty much is history now, so overall not good.

Balance In All Things

I stepped out into my yard to get a Elfmelon off my vine for breakfast and almost tripped over him. He looked like he must have been a hundred cycles old, but when I coughed he sprung to his feet like an acrobat.

"Forgive, no coin for bed. Balance in life."

He bowed to me, and went to leave. I called out to him, I was raised right, so I offered him some Elfmelons and coins.

In tears, he took them, then picked up a stone and attacked me.

I heard something about deeds and balance before I blacked out.

Handheld

We held hands before we met, the tour guide instructing us to walk in pairs across the bridge. We laughed it off.

The next time we held hands was on our first actual date, after weeks of chatting online post-tour, a virtual date over shared Netflix watching, and a slightly too large Italian meal. We touched hands and then burped together loudly.

We must have held hands a million times after that, from the wedding aisle to just helping her up.

And now I'm holding it for the last time.

I wish we could cross this bridge as a pair.

Looped

So I've been stuck in this 15.4 minute period for probably ten years. Long enough to have counted the seconds between flashes.

In that time, I've tried everything I could think of to break the cycle. I've done my best to murder all the enemy combatants in the other trench, I've done my best to save everyone in my trench. I've swapped those goals too. I've done nothing, I've done everything, I've died every way I know how.

Nothing has worked.

So, all I've got left is to get someone else looping too.

I've guessed telling you may do it.

Claimed By Flame

The fire that claimed the city started east of the river, and then the wind helped.

The fire that claimed Eastside started in the low-rent residential neighbourhood, and then the chemical factory helped.

The fire that claimed the neighbourhood started in 157 South Gold Street, and then 159 helped.

The fire that claimed 157 South Gold Street started in the bedroom of Rachel Snow, and then the bookcases helped.

The fire that claimed Rachel Snow's life started behind her eyes, it started as a fire in her mind, her soul.

The one she started helped her by ending the pain.

Hot Hand

"Deal."

That was all the greeting I got. Sure, her getting into the room where the cards were being dealt proved she belonged there, but I was still used to a little more respect.

Still, I did my job, and dealt.

The following two hours remains, even now, the most amazing spectacle I've ever seen. She read everyone like a large print book, and if I wasn't dealing I'd swear she must have been rigging the deck.

When she went to leave, she saw my face and my vain attempts to express my newfound love for her. Her response?

"Deal."