Scribbles:Yggdrasil

By the time I was born, Yggdrasil had been cut down.

The fires of the Inquisition had burned away its leaves. The age of reason had chopped at the roots of the World Tree with Occam's Razor, felling the connection between worlds.

But we have not forgotten. Out of stone and steel and will and shattered dreams, we have raised edifices into the sky. With drills and shovels and need, we have sunk wells into dark places. In the void between spheres, we have built Worldscrapers, modern unbroken towers of Babel.

We trace our ley lines with asphalt and yellow centerlines. We drape the roadways with Indra's electromagnetic Net under metal stars, as Comsat 5 enters Aries and the ISS is in conjunction with Pluto. We live in the buildings of Axis Mundi.

Their spires reach into the stratosphere into Skyeline, the city above the clouds. This is the realm of the iron angels, steel thunderbirds, and fiberglass phoenixes. Here the roof shamans jump from rooftop to rooftop, between the penthouse suites of the sky gods.

The basements, tunnels, sewers reach down into catacombs of Subwaye, the dark underworld of filth and refuse. Here the tunnel priests tend the rivers of filth as they transform under the weight and pressure of reality, like rock pressed into basalt and lava. The gods of earth and stone mine this quintessential ore, and forge the superstructure of reality, the framework on which of the facades of the world hang.

This is the world we live in, where Rat, Cockroach, Dog, Cat and Spider share with Subway Car, Computer, Automobile and Streetlight.

I live in a building different from most. It is tall. Its basements are deep. Its elevators are quick, yet its stairways are steep. But it is mostly empty. Not many people choose to live where I do.