To Doubt Chaos

It wasn’t a waterfall or a rainstorm, just a single droplet. It formed on the bottom of a forgotten glass, part of a pool of condensation slowly spilling out bit by aching bit. When it hit the edge of the table, hours past genesis, it snuck along the edge until it hit the corner. One droplet fell and that was it.

The air parted around the droplet, smoothing the way for its fall. It spun, just slightly, the bottom of it undulating calmly. It thought that the wind on its surface felt nice. The fall felt like forever and, after awhile, it didn’t expect the sudden stop at the bottom.

The droplet misses the ground, slipping instead into a ventilation hole in a metal box atop it. Something inside buzzed slightly, a brief hint of the tiniest flash and a twisting curl of smoke. A gear inside shifted, struggling to spin the teeth of the next. It wriggled back and forth, and then gave up.

There was a click, and something heard it.

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