SOHAIP: The Field of Breathing Stories

My flat-world stories reside in the field of SOHAIP.

They are alive.

They breathe.

They are waiting to be revealed - to be told - to be conjured.

"What about me?!" Reality calls out.

The Reality enters as an actor in a long-running show.

It cares about its performance.

Still, it is a little bit too dramatic - overly flamboyant.

It gesticulates. It makes faces that look funny rather than expressive.

So, I laugh.

I laugh at myself, my Reality, myself in this Reality, and everything in between.

Still, SOHAIP awaits. The stories unfold. Lines form. Dialogues transmit their radio waves into my brain.

I have been following the map, and I am glad.

Many personages spoke to me. They are reflected and gathered.

I am on the right paper flat path.