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P a r t O n e:
The L u m p in the F o r e s t,
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The Beginning of Universe(s)


He remembers the wrinkles of the old man that carried him on the crackling, bony shoulder. He was 9 years old then. Shoulder blades sinking into the soft candy knees. The old man carried him everywhere, yet he never listened because he felt that there was a hole through his head, like he was shot in his head or something and he didn't know why he felt like that.

Every inch of his body kept on itching with curiosity, he wanted to know the things his grandpa had said to him, his presence was there, but the present made no sense to him. If only he hadn't felt spaced out, he could've known.

Aside from remembering his old pa, he spent most of his nights awake, sleepless, thinking of the world in a millennium years,
would he ever know something about the world? Would he ever fill his empty brain with bits of knowledge?

It kept him up all night, even during the day, he would be seated on a chair on his balcony, while it overlooked the beautiful scenery of green. He always tried to recall what his grandpa had told him about the world. Weird things about flying metals in the air, and that the ball we lived in would be crumpled and thrown away like a used tissue one day.

He could never go beyond the border line of his house, his feet wanted to, and he promised himself that he would one day, go to the lump in the forest; where his grandpa's favourite place were.

He felt empty inside and stars tickled his stomach; His name was Cosmos.

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