X marks the spot. It’s finally in sight, but you’re not the first one there.
You pass through hundreds of people looking back at where they came from, and taking notes of their progress. They’re nodding a lot. About a dozen people circle the spot, all looking down at the same place, but they’re pacing and rubbing their heads, or burying their hands deep in their pockets.
“Is this the place?” You ask them.
Some look up at you. “No one’s come back”, one says. Many shake their heads.
What if MetaFactory published books? Not just manifestos and education, but books of stories that bring us to self reflect and reconsider our own perspectives.
You take one of the few shovels laying around, find the spot where the dirt seems most loose and start to dig. Rhythmically, you dig deeper and deeper, stomping on the edge of the shovel, scooping and heaving piles of dirt out of your way. It must still be down here; no one has come back.
The light is getting dim, but it’s not the setting sun as much as it is the walls of dirt reaching higher all around you. You keep digging. You finally found the spot; you can’t stop until it’s uncovered.
Book publishing isn’t without its challenges. Although, the pre-order arrangement that MetaFactory has used before could help prevent overproduction. There are also NFT possibilities to go along with the physical product, which could help turn a profit.
You brush off dirt that fell on your shoulders. More falls. You turn around to look up at where you threw shovelfuls of dirt. The walls aren’t holding. Light diminishes as the hole fills in, with you inside.
You gasp to take in a last moment of air. You hold it in, but for how long? You don’t dare try to open your eyes. The pressure above, and around you is excruciatingly painful for your mind.
Magic Theater is a collection of short and flash fiction, including a Writer’s Digest award winner, at about 20k words total. In the mainstream genre, it’s a journey in stories of discovering personal choices, detaching from beliefs and then recognizing personal agency.
You try to prevent the reflex to breathe, but cannot. Your body forces an inhale. Fresh, oxygen rich air fills your lungs. The darkness is relaxing. Countless big bangs push out the boundaries of spacetime. Energy expands until it is utterly spent.
Sonny and Cher sing “I got you babe”, while cotton and down cradle your head.
This forum post is my request that you, dear MetaFactory members, consider publishing Magic Theater. Thank you for reading.