Artiste Gullible

Her laugh was like sunlight. Her head tilted as she talked, smiling; her arms cradled behind her head in open unabashed comfort. Her legs folded and unfolded themselves as she sat, mid-air, three feet above our somewhat tenuous hold upon terra firma.

“How is this possible?” I exclaimed, my arms gesturing wide to encompass the horizon of floating sky islands. The gesture ended, not too pointedly, at her lithe figure hovering before me.

“Lindenium.” She replied matter-of-fact. “It runs through every atom of our existence here, from the rocks that we stand on, to the color of our sky. With it we can breath underwater, fly  at will, or instantly transport our souls from one point on a map to another; If that is what our creator wishes.

“A society of floating fatalists?”

Her expression changed slightly. She looked at me through smoky eyes that hid a dark reality behind the graceful curves of her young female form. She shrugged.

“Aren’t we all?” Her smiled returned. “In the end, I am my creator’s avatar.”