THE GIFT OF BAGS
In a cosmos far far away, closer than you think, during a moment far far away, closer than you think……..
Babies are born like any other baby. Cute and cuddly. And are then named.
At the young age of 8, they are endowed a ring. At this point parents bring young children deep, deep down a dark, and narrow, cave. At the very pit of this cave drops a deep abyss. Above, a column of water, gushing down, enclosing a great metallic beam that juts up from the abyss. And from the abyss shines a miniscule peephole of blinding light. Encircling this grace, 12 wooden totems ablaze of beasts facing inward, into this great circling.
In order to receive this ring endowment the child must dare enter unto this metallic beam through the column of water and into the bright light, where a ring will fly up from the peephole.
And at this exact moment when they choose to put on the ring, their bodies are shielded in this coat of armor. Armor differs from person to person: from shape to shape, color to color, material to material, strong to weak, sleek to rough, dark to light. The direct cause of the armor is unknown. What is known though is that the armor reflects the ring barer’s personality and attitude.
Thank the heavens for the rings for they are of great purpose: Nature has it’s carnal rage. Above, the outer darkness goes on for light years. Harsh storms of fire and brimstone, icy storms of glaciers as sharp as glass, and horrendous storms of lightening bolts wreak the sky. Beasts as tall as mounts roam the land, among fanged flying creatures and dark deadly monsters. The barren dessert stretches for miles and miles without a sole. This is nature at it’s worst.
And thank the imagination and curiosity of man, for there is another alternative to the rage. Robots dwell among suited man. And among the robots are of many: the quick, the strong, and productive, among others. They work well and were conceived by a quiet hardworking intellect. With his heart set on overcoming Nature, Dr. Mechintosh aspired to match the armor of the rings. And match he did if not better.
These mechanizations don’t power themselves no, they are powered by rings. And people freely oblige.
And so people go on with their lives, deciding their own paths to revel among the many among robots or to live among the cursed whom cannot afford technological lifestyle.
Indeed the days of suffering continues, but there are whisperings of a birth, a savior whose love will flood the land.
And forever may this rejoicing last. For everyone needs it. Even you.