Squiggle Part 2

So here I am, moving, probably being followed, and unsure where to go from here.

Someone somewhere once told me that plasma could travel faster than light. Or was that sub-plasmic particles? Or were there no particles involved at all - don't waves trump particles in speed tests?

I can see the edge.

How horrid if it would turn out to be the edge. I am hopeful nevertheless, moving with the same speed to where I can see something other than a horizon. This is fluffier than a horizon. Loose material, all white and powdery, blows up now and then.

It must be the edge.

My heart is weightless at the prospect of leaving this odd somethingscape that I've been wandering around for what must be centuries now.

Relief is it? A bit of apprehension. Anything would be better than wandering on like this.

The same person, or at least her voice, had told him that those who wandered did so because they did not want to take measure of their deeds. They acted and left, never wanting to see the consequences of their actions. Seeing these results would make them have to confront what they were.

Why was this woman a credible expert? Her forte was neithr physics nor clinical psychology.

The edge was real. It was coming up to me quickly, or rather, I was coming upon it too quickly. Movement is hard to acertain with just two objects invloved.

At the last moment, I pull away and curve away from what could have been.

It could have been the end.

Alarmed, I realise that I am exactly where I started, at the beginning of the grey line.