There are some people for whom, the sun does no shine. Our personal Stellar orb with all its fiery brilliance can usually trusted to illuminate and warm quite most things, specially during the day. however there are some that appear to be walking and living quite normally out in the open air almost completely indistinguishable from others. They seem to sweat under the heat, lather sun screen on, wear bright colours to pay homage to the sun's light and even smile as normal as can be. They seem to be in the world and most people are unaware that for them, the world around them is on another dimension.
For some people, they live and breath under a strangely invisible and all too powerful bubble. This bubble serves no other purpose then to block the most wonderful and brilliant of things the world has to offer. It is not that the people cannot see what fancies lie beyond the bubble. They may see, hear or even feel such wonders but is behind a thick numbing shield that dampens and defeats the senses. Like a giant, thicker then reasonable condom for the mind. The difference would be between hearing about cool swimming pool on a hot day and actually swimming in one or seeing a picture of a delicious cake as apposed to eating one.
There are many people who live in such conditions. One such person was a normal looking, if slightly overweight, girl called Moira. Unique circumstances may have created a rather thick wall of her bubble but there had been times when her bubble's exterior had popped long enough for her to know what happiness and joy felt like, looked like and even tasted like. This usually only served to highlight the truly despairing dullness within the bubble but Moira was not one to sit back and accept the inevitable.
Having tried most other means to break through the bubble, to escape perhaps even destroy the boundaries that kept the world so distantly away from her, she finally decided one day that brute force did not work. She could not break the walls of her metaphorical prison, nor could she run away the farthest distance never being enough, nor could she try to bring the outside world into hers as few were brave enough to linger within the gaping, miserable cold. So Moira came up with a completely new solution. If she could not go out to experiance the wonder and beauty of the world, or make the world come to her, she would create her own world.
To do this, she allowed herself to dream and worked hard not to dream of empty cold plains, or dark dreary settings but strained to imagine colours and music. She pictured sunsets and brilliant starry skies. She imagined warm fires and furs and wonderful music and sounds. To help herself dream, she began to write. She wrote about unicorns and princesses, of kings and emperors. She wrote about magic and mysteries.
It seemed a small solace at first until one day while tiring of the strain to enjoy some real world wonder that she could barely feel, She withdrew back into her bubble and found to her wonder that there lay an entire universe within. A universe she had created with what little was available to her. This universe was far superior in some ways as she was in complete control of it. In her world were creatures never seen, architectures never built, cultures never studied.
Moira began to feel slightly sad. Not the bitter sadness she felt living in her bubble, but a compassionate sadness that others would never know this world. She assumed that others may have created their own universes within their bubbles and she wondered why it was not possible to share these worlds. How many vast worlds were created and then faded away having never been seen except by one. It hardly seemed fair.
Then one day, Moira understood why she had written down some stories from her universe. Here was her world condensed into what seemed like dry little symbols that would leap out once one started to read them. And Moira was not the only one would could read. She began to share her scribbles. They were not perfect, nothing was, but they could convey at least to some extent what had been exclusively hers and as more people began to share in her strange creations, something wonderful happened. The walls of her bubble thinned and faded away. Moira had succeeded in inviting the world in and as she moved to greet those who ventured in, she found herself leaving her bubble. It took no effort, no strain. It hardly hurt.
When the euphoria faded and the people tiring left, the bubble started to return but Moira was not afraid or worried. She had found her secret weapon. All she needed to do was to keep creating wonders and write them down to share them. There was no empty cold despair that was so vast that it could not be filled by imagination.
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