Damn Those Schizophrenic Writers.

Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack…

Brrrriiiiinnng!

Hear that, sweetie? That’s the synchronized heartbeats making up your universe - the universe that exists within one of my quarks.

Somehow, I found it, your voice finding me. I’m trying my best to make you heard, sweetie, but there are too many times the voices become little more than buzzes, your universe’s heartbeat a small ache in the back of my head.

Some days - nights, really, as if you wish to never allow me sleep - the pain intensifies and spreads, no longer able to be ignored. The voices rise in volume, drowning out any other thoughts I may have.

Quiet! Quiet, please!

My hands are shaking; I’ve missed a key.

Tell me what happens next, I plea.

Quiet! The lot of you!

Only one can be your narrator.

Sweetie, speak now.

Tell me how you become their savior.

The voices die again, and I can finally sleep, but until that final page, I’ll never have peace.

A twist! I never saw it coming, even as my hands work, possessed.

My narrator was the villain the entire time, and this revelation leaves me perplexed.

How can this be, sweetie?

Have I heard the voices right?

Should I go back and change some things?

Fine! I won’t! Relax!

This universe is only one, and another is begging for life. I’ll get to them later, listen for their voices and universe’s heartbeat.

I don’t know their story, but images come from time to time, when I need to keep my mind on another track.
I hope to have enough paper and time, but universes, honey, is never something I will lack.