A banner made by myself, featuring the beautiful actress Jenna Coleman as the titular character in this upcoming piece. Why Jenna Coleman? Let's just say it has something to do with time...I'm just gonna come out and say it: this is one of the stories that I consider dead. I've taken the concept as far as it can go and submitted it to several publications, all rejected. I suspect it has something to do with the universe being very highly-developed in my own head but underdeveloped on the page. But "To Avis Ladongale" is in essence a bare-bones piece, more of a prose poem than a story, and to flesh out the text would take it in an entirely different direction than I feel it was meant to go. Perhaps I'll write that other story someday.
To give credit where credit is due, my brilliant friend Katrina S. is the creator of Avis Ladongale herself and my partner, along with Jay B., in creating this strangest of universes in which the piece takes place.
To Avis Ladongale, On the Subject of Fixing Time
Avis,
It's
been what I perceive as five or so years since you first encountered
my daughter and our family. I don't know how aware you are of why
that measurement is ambiguous, so forgive me if this is repetitive to
you. When I say five years, I mean five years spread out over six
temporal revisions. Time is relative, as Einstein says, but even more
so here. One could even argue that we have never met at all.
I
must get this down before what little memory I have of our last
encounter fades permanently into my subconscious. You are a powerful
psychic. I've studied your brain—it's a remarkable specimen—and
for my scientific curiosity you distrust me. I am manipulative of my
children. I am evil. I do no good. And I always seem to put a
restraint on your freedom, so time after time you decide the only way
to keep me away from you is to rewind the clock and change history in
the hopes of putting me at a great enough disadvantage so you can
“win” this “game”.
For
how long do you intend on proceeding in this manner? If neither of us
bends, neither of us will be able to move forward with our lives, and
one of us will eventually break—irreparably. Are you willing to
risk that, to make that sacrifice, all on the assumption that I am
our story's villain? That you are its heroine? The way I see it, a
hero is able to live with the mistakes she's made.
You're
a good girl, Avis. You love sincerely and deeply, more deeply than
many in this world. You have values that you will fight for. You're
compassionate, and oh, so clever.
But
are you a hero?
Avis,
I
must get this down before what little memory I have of our last
encounter fades permanently into my subconscious.
It's
been what I perceive as five or so years since you first encountered
my daughter and our family. I don't know how aware you are of why
that measurement is ambiguous, so forgive me if this is repetitive to
you. When I say five years, I mean five years spread out over seven
temporal revisions. Time is relative. One could even argue that we
have never met at all.
You
are a powerful psychic. You distrust me for my scientific curiosity
in regards to your brain. You say that I am manipulative of my
children, that I am evil, that I do no good. And whenever I put a
restraint on your freedom, you decide the only way to keep me away
from you is to rewind the clock and change history.
Whenever
you do this, you weaken the fabric of spacetime a little. In your
attempt to “save the universe” from me, you are breaking time
itself. Eventually, all semblance of chronology will be evaporated. I
don't know what will happen after that, but life as we know it will
disappear.
This
is a plea for a ceasefire. I don't know how conscious you are of your
own control over time, but if you learned more about your powers, you
could stop this. Surely my suffering is not more important to you
than all the continued existence of the universe.
Avis,
I
must get this down before what little memory I have of our last
encounter fades permanently into my subconscious.
Forgive
me if this is repetitive; when I say it has been five years since we
first met, I mean five years spread out over eight temporal
revisions. One could even argue that we have never met at all. Time
is relative.
You
are a powerful psychic. You distrust me for my scientific curiosity
in regards to your brain. You say that I am manipulative of my
children, that I am evil, that I do no good. And whenever I put a
restraint on your freedom, you decide the only way to keep me away
from you is to rewind the clock and change history.
You
have more power than you understand, and the decisions you are making
are hurting everyone. You are forcing the people you love to relive
their lives over and over, and eventually those minds are going to
snap. You are trapping us all in the past, including yourself. If you
keep doing this, we all will go mad, sooner or later.
I
know at least one of my sons already has.
Our
lives are not a narrative that you can control, Avis. Indeed, you are
the one who so despises the control I
exercise
over the world around me. Let the people I love and the people you
love free. Do you really value their freedom less than your own?
Avis,
I
must get this down before what little memory I have of our last
encounter fades permanently into my subconscious.
When
I say it has been five years since we first met, I mean five years
spread out over nine temporal revisions. I don't know how aware you
are of why that measurement is ambiguous; forgive me if this was
repetitive.
Avis,
I
must get this down before what little memory I
Forgive me.
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