Of String

When I was a kid, I spent a lot more of my time in my own head then I did in the real world. I remember sometimes saying that I had five real friends and a hundred imaginary ones. I would have conversations with people in my head constantly - which is not something that has changed, mind you - and I would tell them about the things that were happening in my life, and I would listen to them telling me about theirs, and we would play games together. They would come and go out of my head like friends and family walking through the front doors of my house. It wasn't very awesome that I felt alone in those days, but when I did, I had this idea that in my chest there was a string of threads, and they would extend out to the people I was connected to, and the special people to me had strings made of gold that could not be severed.

This isn't really something that I do anymore, but it is something that I reflect back on from time to time. Not in such a way that I miss it, but I think about how I can use that today. Specifically, of course, for writing stories. My idea wasn't that certain strings were gold from the get go, because you obviously wouldn't know if they were a life long, important friend when you first met them, but that over time they would coat themselves in gold to show how important they had become. And I also knew exactly which strings went to which people, though how exactly I would have kept track of them I do not know.

And I feel like that would be what could make for an interesting story. The concept of being able to see these strings tying people to oneself, but not knowing which strings went to which person, and having to witness them connecting to people and being coated in gold while not necessarily near them. Certainly, ninety-nine percent of the time it would be obvious when a string is being made and connected, or when it is being coated in gold. But to see a string forming when you are alone, or being coated in gold, and having no idea who or why. And then, later, to see a person you have never met before connected to you for no apparent reason.

It could almost be a mystery novel. Perhaps if one string broke and was replaced with another while you were at home, or if an unbreakable golden string suddenly snapped clean in half with no evident explanation. What happened? And to who? Why?

Of course, the hardest part to explain would be why those strings exist, and why they are visibly, presumably to only the main character. Are they corporeal? And if so, are they only corporeal to him? One would think so, or else people would randomly be tripping and running over invisible strings.

I really don't know what to do with the idea, but it's a fun one to tease. But I somewhat doubt I'll ever go anywhere with it.