In my demesne, there is a pond. It's a short distance west from my manor. I go there often to gaze into the water. Not to see fish, but to see possibilities. I've taken to calling it the "Pool of Possibility."

It lay beneath oak trees, gracing the dry Mediterranean chaparral of my demesne, attracting all manner of creatures. Dragonflies, hummingbirds, coyotes, foxes, deer... They flee when they see me, except for the hummingbirds and dragonflies.

The wind blows across the water's surface and disturbs its reflections, allowing me to see branching timelines, new universes, versions of people. Story beginnings and story ends.

There is much to write.

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By Adaline Guerra