Entry 1~239 words

You can see the stars, planets, and other celestial bodies. One star is our sun. Pan down a bit and you can see the Earth, in all its blue-green wonder. You watch as it spins, while wisps of white stream back and forth just above its surface. Every now and then one wisp will meet another from the opposite direction, and join together in a violent dance, completely oblivious of the vast yet relatively insignificant destruction they cause to the inhabitants of this beautiful planet.

Perhaps you see a pattern in these meteorological phenomena. Does it mean something? If so, what? It probably doesn't matter. Or, atleast, not yet.

Perhaps you can see past the pattern of the weather. Maybe you can make out small pinpoints of light, flaring up and swiftly moving from one end of the globe to the other, creating short lived designs as they pass one another. Don't worry if you can't, not everyone can. Just know that they are there. What are they? They are openings. Possibilities. Ripples into the Etherium of Infinity. What happens when they converge is anyone's guess. It's usually something interesting but unimportant; the sort of thing shares news paper space with articles like "Man gives birth to live Chicken," or some such nonsense. Sometimes, however, it's something that cannot be ignored, and if you can see the lights, you can see the End. Or perhaps you see a Beginning.