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malodorous[ Kristoff’s still not the most socially apt individual, especially when it comes to addressing the masses. Here goes nothing, though! He sounds a little doubtful when he starts: ]
Right. Hello. Kristoff Bjorgman, here. I want to talk about —or ask about, I guess— doors.
Not, like, literal doors, I mean. I know enough about doors. I mean, um… Well, okay, let me— Where I come from, there are places out in nature that are a little different, like a big tree right in the middle of a clearing, or a strange rock formation, or, say, a valley full of smooth boulders surrounded by craggy mountains. People say, or they used to, that these places are places of magic, where the walls between our world and another are thinner, and the gods and spirits can pass back and forth as they wish. I’m not sure how many people still believe in that kind of thing. Most everybody lives in towns, and all of the roads and houses have been built over whatever nature used to be there. They’ve stopped noticing these things, and they have new beliefs.
I was talking to somebody the other day about the machine that brings us here, and how it used to be different. It was at least named for a goddess, I guess, that measured out people’s fates. I don’t know. I never heard of her, but I guess it reminded me of those old stories.
So now I’m wondering if anybody else has stories like that, about doors to other worlds, because I suppose it’s sort of fitting. We’re in another world, and I guess that machine is the door. Maybe it’s just a matter of where it opens in our own homes. Something like that.
That makes more sense to me than just saying “a machine did it,” at least.
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