💾 Archived View for tanelorn.city › ~bouncepaw › fiction › spiral.gemini captured on 2020-10-31 at 02:21:40. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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They call me The Purple Nomad.
This name may seem strange but it's actually quite reasonable. First of all, I'm a nomad. Second, I wear purple clothes.
You seem to be a foreigner and you probably don't know what it means to be a nomad in this land. Well, you see, people are rooted. They get education in one school, then in one university and then work at one job until they get too old to work.
There are not many hotels nowadays. Why would you leave your local area anyway? Most people are satisfied by the entertainment and treatment they get locally.
Then why am I a nomad in a world like this, you ask. The answer is simple: I want to change this world. By not sticking to one place, I may inspire other people to do the same. So far, it has happened only once, two years ago.
Too bad he died. He was a good friend.
To be honest, I feel weak. I haven't changed the world; instead, the world has changed and now it has even less room for me. Sometimes I think I won't make it. I won't succeed. But what if I do? This thought keeps me going.
So, do you want to join me? Then you are at the right place already.
----
Ezekiel blinked in surprise. ‘So, this is what The Nomad said back then?’
Hundred years ago, The Nomad wouldn't have thought that he'd actually manage to change the world. That hundred years later, being a nomad is so common that living in one place for long is considered weird. That a statue of him would be built, after all.
If there's any kind of afterlife, The Nomad must be quite proud of humanity. He taught us the ways of our ancestors and we learned it. And how great these ways are!
‘So, the plan for today is: first, get a sailboat; second, sail to a faraway place. How do you like it?’ Ezekiel asked.
‘Totally fine for me.’ Rachel responded.
----
John let out an exhausted sigh. ‘Damn, David, I'm tired of this. Wherever I try to write anything, I end up writing an alternative history recursive short story! But I want to write romance long stories! How do you do this?’
David looked at John pathetically. ‘I kinda understand why you tend to write about alternative history, but what about recursion? It's a cheap trick to concatenate several extra short stories into one, I consider it to be highly shameful.’
‘Yeah, I know. It just happens by itself as if I'm being controlled by some other mind.’
‘Ever thought that you're just an iteration of a recursive short story?’
‘I do it every day, check out my blog.’
‘Oh boy...’
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Lying in my bedroom very late at night (or rather very early at morning) I write these lines on my phone. I wanted to write a story in English, so here it is. It's quite metaphorical. And it's recursive.
Just like always, I'm not sure if this is a real fiction or just an attempt to make one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Oh, and this section is part of the story too.
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The Purple Nomad looked at the draft. ‘Well, I kinda like the part when I get a statue but what about me losing my friend? Also, who's that emo with the metatext?’
Jacob doesn't seem puzzled at all. ‘I added the death episode to add some degree of drama to the story. I sure want the readers to think that they've read something serious and not some meta-ironical joke that needs 16 minutes of explanation.’
‘Drama, you say... Well, whatever, drama be it. But why'd you add the emo part? That person is talking like an author! But everyone knows it's you who is the author. Your name will be written on the cover, after all!’
‘Oh, it's all part of the trick! Readers will love it!’
Jacob has always been like this. Writing his stories about me that have nothing in common with the real life and adding things that aren't needed. I mean, yeah, I kinda want to change this still world but it's not like this world is hopelessly bad!
----
David seems unsure. ‘This Purple Nomad character is kinda strange, moreover, why'd you add us both to the story?’
‘I just want us two to be eternal this way. Our bodies will rot, disappear, our kin will disappear too, yet the image of an unlucky writer and his smug friend will remain! Isn't that epic?’
David seems to be unsure even more. ‘I don't know Jacob. No one will take this story seriously if you continue it like that, I thi...’
Jacob won't let David finish his sentence. ‘Oh, you don't even know my power limit! Observe!’
----
Ezekiel stopped typing for a moment. ‘Hey, Rachel, tell me a cool name!’
‘David.’
‘No, this one's taken. Another one.’
‘Daniel.’
‘Thanks.’
----
My name is Daniel and I want you to tell the thing that has been on my mind for a long time. You've just read a text I'd call a ‘recursive short story’. It's recursive because, well, every next section reveals the the previous one was a fiction and that the current one is the actual reality. But it's not, of course. The only reality is this text you're reading now.
So, back to the topic. Have you noticed that stuff like this happens all the time? Someone writes a novel that quotes a different imaginary novel. Then the written novel gets turned into a live action. Of course, actors know they are in a film (unless it's the Truman Show). So, it's nested three times already. But what about spectators? Is that the third layer? What if a spectator retells the story to someone else? This can be continued for a long time.
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Continuation: none yet