I remember the day well when the Noman Continent drifted silently over my head. I was alone on the surface of my house, my brothers and sisters away on the Flipside, visiting friends. I remember the ominous feeling. I remember the darkness. But most of all, I remember the tug, the pull, the presence of the Noman Continent's gravitational field.
I'd heard stories of continents that had brushed by so close to one another that the inhabitants had been scooped right off the face of their homes and taken away on a new land.
And so, it was with a fearful gaze that I watched the continent slide by, its bleak and ragged surface riddled with scars and gouges from it's scrapes and impacts with the unfortunate continents that had gotten in the way of its relentless momentum.
I shivered, and again I wondered, how much longer would we live in peace on such a slight continent? The world was forever changing and shuffling; it was only a matter of time before we were tossed out into the jumbled universe of shifting gravity.
But that day, as I watched the Noman Continent in the distance, that was not the day.
Now is the day. Now is the moment. And now that it has finally arrived, I can hardly believe my fate.
I spin wildly through the air, direction making no sense, disorientated beyond myself until, with a sudden shiver, I feel that familiar tug.
I had been pulled from my home, carried helplessly on an erratic rolling globe only to be spun wildly off into the weightless backeddies of the universe. I felt lighter than air. I felt lost. I felt as if I was a part of the spinning darkness itself.
But now, as I begin to black out, I am certain that the cold tug behind me is growing stronger. I can feel its grasp as it comes to sweep me up. The world spins one last time before I black out, and I see the desolate pock-marked surface of the Noman Continent. It grows larger and larger until my entire view is consumed by darkness...