The Infinite Web of the Multiverse
I type.
Scientists hypothesize that millions of other universes, collectively known as the multiverse, each with its own laws of physics, lie beyond our visual horizon.
Furthermore, some scientists conclude that any number of physical universes exist and that we each likely inhabit the one with the most appropriate characteristics for our best chance of survival.
I let out a scoff. The idea of a multiverse, to me, a person who lives in this three hundred square foot studio apartment, is hilarious. My world is small, airtight, and compressed.
The multiverse may function as an ever-expanding web-like system that connects each universe to the next. Scientist Theodore Lake recently shook the scientific community with his theory that portals might also exist in key elemental areas of each universe that may allow entry into other or parallel universe systems. This theory has been widely criticized as, at worst, “scientific mumbo-jumbo” and, at best, “optimistic science fiction.”
Whoever owns the company I work for is into some seriously weird shit, but as long as the assignments and paychecks keep coming, I couldn’t give a shit. I glug down the coffee, shaking my head because it’s so hot it burns my tongue. Fuck.
But a notification lights up at the corner of my screen.
One new message from Mackthefishguy
My pulse quickens, and I welcome the immediate distraction, clicking the notification. His avatar is a profile of a fish. A mackerel, I think, sleek, pale, and opalescent.
Mack: It’s Friday morning. Is your tank still empty?
Mack knows about my greatest aquarium shame. About the total lack of aquatic creatures in my care. It’s an inside joke of ours.
Jules: As empty as my soul. Happy Friday.
Small talk, I know, but I actually kind of like it with Mack. We’re just two normal people having a totally normal conversation.
Mack: Friday, Friday, Friday. You know where the fish crew goes on Friday nights, right?
Jules: Where?
Mack: Anywhere that’ll drop the bass.
Jules: Booooo!!!
Mack: Okay, okay, okay, tough crowd. I’m a fish guy, not a jokes guy. But for real, what’re you up to?
I run my fingers through my hair, noticing all its knots. When was the last time I showered? I shake away the thought. More importantly, what would it be like to hang out with Mackthefishguy on a Friday night?
Jules: The usual. The girls come over for drinks, we hit the town in miniskirts and heels, and then stumble home at closing time.
A lie.
Mack: Really? You strike me as more of an introvert, but hey, what do I know?
Jules: That’s because I’m actually going to sit in my apartment and eat instant ramen. But the good ramen that comes with the oil packets, not just the powder. Although I like that kind too.
The truth.
I send the message and chew on my lip as I wait for him to respond. I wonder what he’s fishing around for—if anything.
Finally, typing bubbles appear.
Mack: Don’t you want to know what I’m up to?
Jules: Nah.
I snort to myself.
Jules: Kidding. What’re you up to?
Mack: I’m expanding my tank again.
Jules: Again? But don’t you only have one fish?
Mack: Yes, but he’s growing. Even if I don’t want him to.
Jules: Don’t you think he could use another fish in the tank with him? Isn’t he lonely?
Mack: Other fish don’t like him.
Jules: What? Why not?
Mack: He started out cute, but now he’s turned into kind of a freak. Too ugly.
Jules: I don’t believe it! Then I pause before typing the next words. Send me a picture.
It sounds like nothing, right? Asking for a picture of a fish. But this is an escalation of our conversations. We’ve never exchanged pictures before. And even if I don’t want to admit it, I’m testing the waters. What else can we exchange . . . ?
