My friend and I are traveling through a strange nd, possibly the far future or an alternate version of our own world based on the number of familiar antiques and ruins. We come across a strictly stratified people and stay for a time until our curiosity is sated. We are treated as religious figures, unbound by convention and free to move where we wish and interact with the pce’s inhabitants as we will, so long as we don’t stir up trouble.

  I spend most of my time amongst the lower css while my friend examines the upper. The lower css literally lives in dirt and mud and subsists primarily on the ubiquitous squirming worms, eaten raw. None of them are happy about it, but none feel that there is anything achievable to be done about it. The one time they are free of the mud and the worms are when they are in the pyramidal temple that I have made myself a guest in. I skitter and climb spider-like upon the steep walls and trinket-strewn rafters, going in and out through high gssless windows that no one else can reach.

  Their religion emphasizes acceptance of their status, having nothing, and just lying down and taking whatever bothers them. Few truly have faith, but they are commanded to gather in the temple and say the words of obeisance all the same. And then afterwards they fgrantly disregard those teachings and adorn the space with whimsical trinkets and artifacts that I recognize as worn down leftovers from my own world.

  On a whim I share some of my own food with these people and split a rge cookie many ways so that the children can all have a piece. Afterwards my friend chides me for my action, stating that since I don’t have enough to share with everyone I risk inciting division and strife. We talk and agree that these people need revolution. My friend reminds me that it is not our pce to act as saviors; the most we can do is pnt the seeds before we leave. I believe the seeds were already here long before we arrived; they merely need watering.

  I mention the idea of revolution to the unbelieving priestess whom I have befriended in my time here. Despite having gotten to know me, she misunderstands my intent and ughs at the idea that I could lead anything, much less a revolution. It will come, yes, but I will not be part of it.