There is no gravity, or strange gravity, depending. It shifts on a dime, on a moment, on a heartbeat or half a heartbeat, and you can rely upon nothing in this elsewhere.
It seems to be spherical or somewhat so. It feels like a soap bubble, like a balloon; there may be an outside, but it is distorted. It smells so strongly of lavender that if there is a trail here, a way out, you cannot find it. The walls distorted and bulge, and bits of them slide disconcertingly.
You stop. You close your eyes. You breathe.
You open your eyes again.
There is discord here, but also beaut. It is an unfamiliar beauty, but you think the person who grew within this shell might have found it quite lovely. You can picture them playing wit the bulbs that separate from the main body, the ones that sometimes look almost like eyes. This might have felt safe.
No elsewhere is quite like another. No person is broken in the same way. Nothing shows you that quite like this, like discovering foreign world after foreign world, alien minds seeded by human minds.
You begin to wonder what Aaron's elsewhere is like. If it has continued without him.
You wonder what it might take to get there, and what more it might take to bring him with you."Queer Moons" necklace
by Danielle Sucher
"Invisible air drifts,
Giving a shriek and pop
When attacked, then scooting to rest, barely trembling.
Yellow cathead, blue fish ----
Such queer moons we live with" -- ""Balloons", by Sylvia Plath.
Handcrafted lampwork glass focal bead, made by Danielle Sucher
at her torch in Brooklyn; recycled sari silk ribbon.
Team Venture shoutout to sealgair
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