
She traces fingers across ghostly #manifolds of worlds that had never been, soft-sharp improbabilities of form that skitter across dimensions at her touch. He was hiding –or the possibility of him was hiding– somewhere just out of reach.
Tales from a Messy Workbench!
She traces fingers across ghostly #manifolds of worlds that had never been, soft-sharp improbabilities of form that skitter across dimensions at her touch. He was hiding –or the possibility of him was hiding– somewhere just out of reach.
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