Episode3, The End of the Thread
Added 2025-08-11 04:35:08 +0000 UTCI could see it. A thin, almost invisible thread, hanging from somewhere above, disappearing into the gray sky. It was tied to my wrist.
When it pulled, my arm rose. When it slackened, my arm fell. I didn’t choose either.
The street around me was loud—traffic horns, vendors shouting, music from a shop—but every sound felt far away, muffled, as if I were underwater. The only thing sharp, the only thing real, was the gentle, mechanical tug on that thread.
People walked past without looking. A few glanced, then quickly looked away. I followed the pull again—step forward, turn my head, pause.
I realized the thread was not pulling me toward anywhere. It was only moving me. Forward, sideways, back—like tracing meaningless shapes in the air.
A man stopped in front of me. His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear him. He reached out—then hesitated, hand frozen midway. The thread pulled again, and I stepped around him without pause, as if he were no more than a lamp post.
Somewhere far above the rooftops, the other end of the thread vanished into the clouds. I didn’t know who held it. I didn’t know if it was a hand, a machine, or nothing at all.
I only knew it would keep pulling. And I would keep following. Until the thread itself decided to end.
-To be continued-
