Jamie’s new spectral eyes tasted like tamarinds that had been reconstituted by liquid helium. With lead fingertips she touched the new water and was electrified by the gracious pulses of ancient information.

She licked her lips and a million stars were born, burned, and died upon them. When she felt this way time became her favorite toy.

The beats to the songs of hundreds of cultures kept her entranced as she shifted through phases and wrote new creation stories for upcoming civilizations. Most of them would never know what really happened, that they’d been created from moss by the swing her her index finger and that they’d split atoms to destroy themselves by the swing of her thumb.

She shuddered and shook black holes from her skirt. They dropped forever into the ground and she laughed, brushing lakes of stars out of her hair and planets from her eyes.

It was a toy. The whole thing was just one big toy.