a Chuck Wendig flash fiction challenge (240 w) here
I plucked out a thin thread from the empty space in front of me.
With a gentle pull, I rotated my index around it. Slowly. With elliptical movements, carefully not to rip it. Always the same, always one thread at the time. I tugged at the fabric of destiny, twirled it between my thumb and index, till it became solid. Not one resisted my hands. I made a ball, in the size of my fist.
It looked like hair, made of pure moonlight. I remembered its glow, when I was still able to see, but that was long ago.
Somewhere around me, on the limestone tiles of the room, there must be over ten thousand orbs of glowing silver.
Decades passed, and what I did, I did every day. Since I got blind, I only imagined, when one day began and when it ended. The only constant occurrences were the food. They always send a child with the food, once a day – probably – always a different child.
But that wasn’t my concern.
My duty was to eliminate the uncertain futures, by pulling the alternative destiny patterns out of the tissue of time. I obliterated parallel events out of the myriads of possibilities. The run in the fabric collapsed the unwanted realities on its own. I only hooked the critical event and tugged, till I felt the cold sigh of perishing on my face.