'Certain Fates'

The size of a fingertip, the weight of a murmur of fate and inertia. It does not intend to destroy, not even to arrive. It only follows the shortest path of inevitability and the longest path of coincidence, spinning and moving forward. In its own time, the world is simply walls to collide with, propositions to bounce off, cacophonous and silent. The most glancing impact is enough to make life and chaos collide with each other.