Terminal velocity

She liked to listen to podcasts. Specifically, she liked to load up a gazillion episodes on an ancient, barely digital mp3 player and walk around the cityscape with voices talking in her ear. Sometimes, they said interesting things, but most of the time they were just good company – friends and travel companions in a handy, portable package.

Until one day, when she was in a hurry to get out the door, and forgot it.

Being in a hurry is a strange state of mind. You miss things you’d see in a non-hurried state, and conversely notice things you’d not otherwise notice. This particular day, she was in a state beyond hurried – the need for speed was worthy of an ancient Greek poem suddenly being rediscovered in a forgotten monastery. As she arrived at her destination, her hurried self was mostly on autopilot, and thus reached for the off button on her mp3 player. It was not there, but being partly metaphysical at this point, she pressed it anyway. Through some unknown means, she had reached through to the control panel of her universe, managing to – through the pressing of one single stop button – bring her internal monologue to an end.

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