Timepieces

Outsider

Like The Loop, Outsider was inspired by DARK, not based on it. But, in a much different capacity, it manages to be an uplifting and beautiful vision of change and creation. That is, if you understand what it means. I'm probably not going to help you out with this one; just know that this story means the most to me out of possibly everything I'll ever publish. Good luck.

I reach up to wipe the spit from my face.

There would be no reason to spend too much time angry with the old man who disrespected me. His white hair is matted with mud and leaves and a thin film of dirty sweat covers his face. His clothes display a systematic arrangement of rips and twine tied fumblingly to fit him. Children's clothes. Most of the others on the sidewalk have resorted to similar methods. His face is contorted with rage and grief.

I turn away and continue down the narrow alley. As I pass, its occupants cast me varying glances. Anger and sorrow seem like shallow words as I'm faced with their glares. I'm about to pass under the gate at the end of the alleyway when I see a young girl of about nine standing apart from the others. She wears clothes that clearly belong to someone much older, but a loop of twine is tied like a makeshift belt around her waist, and a gathered clump of the waistband of her pants sticks out on her right side, twisted into an auxiliary pocket. The expression on her face is flat and emotionless. Her hands twist together in a nervous motion, and her face is covered in such a thick and persistent layer of dirt that it's impossible to tell the color of her skin or hair. I move to comfort her, but she shrinks away.

"Outsider," she says. Her voice is as flat and empty as her expression. She doesn't appear capable of saying anything else.

Seeing how useless my attempt has been, I straighten and pass under the gate at the end of the alleyway, into the busy street. These sidewalks are scrubbed clean, the people wear vibrant clothing, and market stalls line either side of the cobblestoned road. It's some type of farmer's market, I infer; the people meander, as if they're not looking for anything in particular and instead want to browse among the stalls. When I step into the street, the steady flow of inaudible conversation emanating from the stalls slows grindingly to a halt. Everyone pauses to stare. Malice in every face.

It's shocking, really, the kind of treatment I've received. I'm not one to complain or try to convince people things should change, but I'd at least appreciate if people were less eternally pessimistic. The phenomenon is related in some way to the fundamental attribution error, but applied to themselves: the good that happens to people is their own doing, but the bad- it's all the fault of Fate. Outsiders. I can understand how angry people might be in the alleyway I passed through to get here. But when the fortunate act this way, I'm inclined to think of them as ungrateful.

I calmly ignore the angry stares of the market-goers and carefully make my way down the wide street. It's almost as if people are frozen in place; they don't move to the side to let me pass through, but simply stand still, waiting for me to find a way to weave through the crowd. I know that if I so much as brush against someone, I will be at fault for everything that happens to them in the next year. If their cat dies, if they lose their job, if they break a finger, they'll remember the figure that brushed against their sleeve that sunny day in the autumn. They'll remember my face, and distort it into the face of hate. Of cold, uncaring indifference.

In all the worlds, even my own, there is more good than evil. More people live than die. More people love than are lonely. But they don't seem to notice that here. For every time an incredible coincidence happens, there are thousands of similar circumstances that we ignore which could have been coincidences of the same magnitude. For every time an event of great sadness or great evil occurs, there are thousands of trifling acts of good and kindness that no one sees. Belief in coincidence and belief in evil are facets of bias. None of us are immune. No matter how much anger and hate I inspire here, these people will experience more happiness over the course of their lives. I realize too that my complaints and sadness while I am in this world will be outweighed by a greater amount of goodness throughout my life. Beginning with the fact that I had the ability to become an Outsider.