The Blanket

Two sisters, Julia and Violet, live in a cabin in the center of nothing. Julia likes to have a quiet space to read, but Violet, decides to create a blanket of the ever-expanding universe

In the center, if it could be called that, is where my sister Violet and I lived. We had a small but cozy cabin with all the necessities; a quaint stove, a percolator, and a hand-crafted chair where I enjoy my coffee and read. We also had a loom and my book collection to tie everything together. It was a wonderful place.
There wasn’t a lot going on in the center, I had time to read every book that had ever existed (because I wrote it), and Violet would pace around trying to find something to do. Sometimes we would play a game when I got annoyed with Violet’s constant shuffling across our floor. When we tried to play a game, we’d argue about rules that we thought the other was making up to put the odds in their favor. Usually we’d sit, pitching ideas to each other, never finding anything to play. If we couldn’t think of anything else and didn’t want to do anything else, we would make up new words or patterns of words that would sound silly together, such as “exasperate.”
“Violet,” I started, “will you stop that pacing? It’s making me go absolutely mad. Why don’t you find something to do besides getting on my nerves? I wrote a book.”
    “Hmm,” Violet mumbled, “Oh, yes. Sorry, Julia. Well. Maybe.”
“What are you going on about over there. I’m trying to read this wonderful book that was just printed. Reading enriches the mind; pacing makes you go blind!” She continued to pace around without heading my ludicrous lie. “Are you even listening?”    
For one reason or another, Violet would get caught in a “thought-loop” and mumble to herself for hours on end. Maybe sauntering in circles caused it, but from a distance you could hear her brain coming up with ideas.
    “I know,” Violet obnoxiously exclaimed, “I’m going to make a universe!”
    “A uni-what? Is it some game you made up?”
    “Not a game, a universe, stupid. U-N-I-V-E-R-S-E.”
    “You have a lot of thoughts, don’t you,” I whispered to myself. Without thinking over her new universe idea, Violet rushed to the loom and fed it the black wool which rested neatly in its basket for as long as we lived here. I wasn’t sure if she knew what she was doing, and I don’t think my sister had any idea either. I glanced over my book to make sure nothing funny was going to happen, then suddenly an explosion occurred!
“What did you?!” I yelled.
“Oh, nothing,” my sister replied candidly. (Quite the lie if you ask me).
 After that small burst of excitement, it became nice and quiet in our cozy little cabin again. Peering over my book again, I noticed specks amidst this universe, but nothing appeared uniform nor exciting. After a few minutes of squinting in distaste, I went back to my book and coffee while my sister weaved away. I don’t know what she was planning, and in fact, I did not care.
I tried to get comfortable in my chair again, but even my attempt to relax was interrupted. As soon as I went back to my book some of her old patterns and specks began to merge with themselves and made new speckles and patterns. And then those patterns merged together and made even newer ones.
    “What’s going on over there,” I yelled across the cabin.
    “Oh, nothing to be concerned about my dear sister, Julia. Ignore the woman at the loom,” she hummed, like a small child who got caught doing something they shouldn’t. It was always hard to ignore her; always thinking this, always pacing over that-a-way.
    “Nothing,” I questioned, “in what world was that nothing?”
    Violet ignored me as she usually does and continued her work. The dots and dust kept changing and morphing into new ones, some specks stayed the same and some condensed together again and again. Soon the dust turned into, what my sister called, light. I was bewildered by my sisters’ creation and how strange, unformed, yet so intricate and beautiful it was.
    The longer my sister spent on the loom the faster she got at expanding this universe. What was unformed now had form. What she called “galaxies” sprouted everywhere and were infinitely apart from one another. Inside these galaxies were balls of gas that burn and implode with other gas-balls or rocks orbiting around them. Across millions and billions of infinite patterns and things, life lived and died in such beautiful detail.
    “What are you doing, Violet!?” I was frightened. I couldn’t tell anything apart anymore. My sister kept weaving faster and the universe kept expanding, pressing against the walls and furniture. I couldn’t see anything clearly anymore; it was expanding out of control! My eyes wouldn’t blink, I was in awe of this universe and my sister. Her universe was magnificent and colorful. There were more colors than I could even name.
    I snapped out of its hypnotic spell and ran over to my sister as fast as my legs allowed. “Please stop, it’s getting out of control!”
“I can’t! Julia, what should I do?! Help!”
As soon as my sister finished yelling out to me the universe engulfed her!
 I’ve never heard my sister so frightened before. I panicked and dove into the blanket on a mission to find her. “What have you done, dear sister,” I thought. I tried swimming over here and over there. With only the sounds of her muffled cries for help to guide me, I eventually found her falling into a hole, the color of the darkest of black ever seen, stretching and bending in its eye. As soon as I reached for her hand a great force like a rubber band, snapped.
    In the center, if it could be called that, is where my sister Violet and I lived. We had a small but cozy cabin with all the necessities; a quaint stove, a percolator, and a hand-crafted chair where I enjoy my coffee and read. We also had a loom and my book collection to tie everything together. It was a wonderful place. There wasn’t a lot going on in the center, I had time to read every book that had ever existed (because I wrote them), and Violet would pace around trying to find something to do.