i wrote to remember

the morning reflected it, and i certainly remember dreaming it, that the outsides of the spheres were like miniature globes floating in space, though confined like a bedroom, but with stars around the walls and on the ceiling and the floor, everywhere you could see. and the television screens hung down from nothing. the professors and news people talked about the problems they were having, the issues that arose from trying to understand and control “metaquasars” and “hypnogravity” and “dynamic range ballistics” - the ideas that they had in regards to hyper-space travel, intersecting wormholes and the like - i couldn’t quite comprehend. my attention was focused on the immediate problem of keeping the two halves of the sphere from connecting to each other. that problem, of course, became an immediate disaster, however inevitable, and the two pieces game together. the faux ceilings and earth faded into the space and where there was matter was nothing but space. a metallic rectangle floated out ahead of me but trying to “fly” toward it proved to be a greater problem than keeping the two halves apart. it’s very near impossible to get any sort of grip or traction or sense of direction towards anything in deep space. will is your only weapon, your only means of doing. it took all i had to make it to the platform and still maintain my grip on the orb. meanwhile i had figured the solution to this problem - destroy the orb and reset space back to a normal environment, maybe return the earth to where it belongs, at least anything to resemble that. but i had made it to the platform. that was a start. and so i tried to stand on the wobbling piece of substance, trying to steady myself under the weightlessness of an empty void, position myself in a way to give me the best opportunity to destroy the orb. and then there was another metal thing, a shelf that had grown out from a wall in the side of the original piece of metal. things becoming more things. getting bigger. so i took the opportunity. smashed the metal sphere with my hand. shattered it into tiny molecules. the earth came back. the lights came back. the monitors came back. as if nothing ever happened. all reset. and in the inside of the sphere, a tiny wire, like a plug, with a light on the end. i pulled it out from its place and swung it above my head, lassoed a metal railing on the opposite side of the field, and swung down to the stars below me.