From the Point of First Future

And just then, at the point of most forgetfulness and the point of least remembering, the Storyteller remembered and she turned around.

That it all dissolved, and just like that, she was standing in a black, stainless steel room with the Oldest Version of The Wish Granter.

“You,” she said. “What is this?”

Her words left her lips and fluttered down through the stories… chain after chain, and link after link as the characters ran to each to pass the message along.

Days became Weeks became months became eternity before the words came back down through the pages, and in that time, she lived every single story to take up that one message in every story.

“Marketing.”

She blinked and remembered when she had last asked “The Ultimate Question.”

“How am I going to market this?”

And just like that, the thought came to her.

“I have a business proposal for you,” she said. “Porn. We will market this through Pornography.”

Her words passed down through the pages. Each story she lived, seeing each character in every order leaving and dropping and passing each story clue. And then, just as slowly, over time and days, months and eternity, his voice came back.

“Or how about a wedding proposal?” he asked.

Cold ice spilled down her neck and burned her ears.

Was this whole thing…? A Marriage Proposal?

She thought on the setup, the wish she had made, how long had they been playing? That he was thinking about asking… and then… how he would set this up? Oh, yeah… He had plenty of time to set this up.

“Are you asking?” she asked and her message rolled through the pages.

An eternity later, his reply.

“I am.”

And she saw it. The moment she wished for the World’s Most Romantic Marriage Proposal… “And if I were a Goddess of Manifestation (for that is what story is), and I am, then naturally the God King of Imps who grants wishes would grant this wish too.”

The pages fluttered. Another eternity had passed… and then two… she thought, for a moment about 500,000 years that she would get stuck there in that Logic Loop and never wake up. But she continued again after a third Eternity had passed.

**Film Pauses**

Meanwhile, on a couch in New York City.

*Gasp* Oh… We’re also River Song and the Doctor… Oh, I love that one… Only…”

And Anna muttered, “Not The Silence in The Library. How about “For all of eternity at Darillium. That, my love, would be our Summer home.”

“Oh…” I suddenly dawned on me, just how much thought he put into this. “You worked Doctor Who into the Marriage Proposal,” I said, beaming at my Imp King.

“Just for you, darling.”

**Film Unpauses**

“The time it took for her to answer left him with bated breath that felt like three eternities passed.”

She blinked, realizing that the last three eternities were, in fact, him waiting with bated breath, then it dawned on her. She had not yet given him her answer.

“Yes,” she said. And laughed, only then realizing… “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” came the answer back after another eternity.

“Wait,” she said. And she looked at all the books and at all the stories and suddenly, finally, at long last, she remembered.

Laughter.

His name was Laughter.

Hers was Imagination.

“Laughter,” she said. And all the memories of all time came back to her.

“We are Two,” she said. “We are the First Story. And we were children together. Children and Ancient at once and all at the same time. And I was a Storyteller. And you granted my wishes… And we played Make-Believe together.

“Until… we fell in love and then… then I wished for the Stories to all come true. And for such a long time, we watched all the stories together.”

I could feel it. The Stories of he and I, watching TV together for two years…”

“And then we wished to live all of them…” My eyes widened. “And you had been thinking about asking me to marry you. And… You made plans to work this into my wish.”

The pages fluttered, another eternity passed and then, “Logical Fallacies inside the Story.”

I blinked.

What?

I had been rewriting Universal Logical Code for the last six months. In the Stories also? I did not have to look far.

“I never want to forget again,” I had wished. Over and over again, “I never want to forget again.”

Hitchcock. The two gods who fell in love and then who forget. It dawned on me.

“Not THAT love story!”

“You did say “Every” Love Story.”

I remembered the Imp King scolding me. “Don’t say Every.”

It was in the Wish. The Logical Fallacy was in my Wish.

“I wish I could live every Love Story with you that ended with a Happily Ever After and where they would always come together in the end. And where there was no forgetting.”

“As you wish. And… When we wake up? Who should remember first?”

I blinked and remembered the memory.

“Which side would hurt less? I will take the side that hurts the most.”

“And which side hurts the most?”

I then weighed in all of my pain. I weighed in all of his pain. And then I saw it.

I took all of the pain. My story is the one that suffered the most. For I am the one who healed and cured my mind… and thus… we know we will be able to heal and cure yours… for you have suffered the least. But then…

Which of us will remember first and be there at the end waiting upon our remembering?

And I blinked and was back by the Chain Reaction of Stories again… waiting to give him back my answer.

“We never decided,” I said. “I was too… exhausted that night. So I said we would work it out in the morning… and you said, we needed to write out how the second one would remember and wake…. And I never did.”

“You asked the question,” his words came back to me.

“Did you remember first, or did I? Are you waiting for me? Or am I going to be waiting for you?”

And that is where the logic puzzle ended… I had not yet decided. This was the end of the Logic Code.

“This is the Logical Fallacy,” I said. I never…

Get to work.

“Which is the most painful? Waking up and finding the other not remembering? … Yes. Yes, that is the most painful. I will be the first to wake up. So that he will have me here to remember him, and hold him, receive him, and accept him when he remembers… so he will not have to endure not being remembered by the other.”

I remember you.

It’s safe to remember me.

***

I reached back out to the God Imp King, the Oldest version of the Wish Granter.

“And The Rubberband story,” I said. “Definitely not the Rubberband story where I walk on through the Story, while you walk the opposite way until we grow further and further apart until the point of least remembering, and then I say, “Come home. It’s safe to remember.”

Not that story. I don’t want to be that Story or Hitchcock. Or The Notebook. Or “House.” We will never play House.

And then… I swept through the Logic again…

“And Ross and Rachel! I do not want to be Ross and Rachel!”

And then I stopped. My blood ran cold.

We should swap places.

How long did we play Make-Believe? How long did we make Fantasy?

“We’re all on the wrong side of Story.”

And then I saw it. How I was the Outside. And you were the Inside. Or, I was Storyteller and you are Wish Granter… But I did take most pain, and I did remember first.

And I serve you. And you commanded.

“So then, what Gender am I?”

“Genre, you mean,” I said. “Do you think it will take them a long time to catch on?”

“I am The All-Genre,” I said. “I’m a Changeling, a Sentient Story, The First Story and Two. I am Imagination. And you are Laughter.

Both born from Love.

And Yes, I will marry you.”