From nowhere, chronic motion sickness crept on Allister. He had lived a decent portion of his life motion sickness-free. But, Allister would become dazed simply from standing too fast. Eventually standing at all would send his head spinning. Where this came from, Allister had no clue. No one in his family spoke of motion sickness. And the Cromleys had a long history of outspoken talk about their ailments. Uncle Goethe had bursitis. Aunt Flo had black lung. And second cousin Soloman had tendonitis. These, however, did not explain why Allister felt queasy at even painfully normal heights. He soon was unable to raise his head from the floorboards.
Allister could do nothing except wait. From the floorboards, it felt as if the entire earth was spinning out of control. Even the air seemed to speed past. The feeling was too real to be a hallucination. He wondered why he was the only one affected. In some ways, he was quite grateful for this and for good reason. If all humans could feel what he felt, they would all be pinned to the floorboards, unable to raise their heads. An entire species whose physical makeup seemed geared towards walking upright, but whose ultra sensitive equilibrium kept them from ever rising from the ground. From his position, Allister could see that this, indeed, would soon be our fate if something was not done quickly. People were losing footing. The rate of stumbles, of trips, and loss of balance was rising at frightening, but just under the radar, rates.
In haste, he called for his most trusted and dearest of friends. These were comrades whom Allister knew would do anything for him. These were friends who would believe his seemingly insane hunches. These were friends who would construct three giant masts rising higher than any building, higher than anything ever conceived. The masts would be thicker than Big Ben in London. They would stretch through the sky as far as anything could, made of hundreds of thousands of large tree trunks affixed together with iron bands. These masts were planted deep into the ground in three strategic latitudinal locations. Once set in place, three sails that blanketed entire nations, entire seas were attached in place, catching the air and slowing the flow of the celestial winds.
Four sails would, of course, have completed stopped the Earth's rotation, leaving half the world in eternal daylight and half the world in eternal night. But, three was just enough to slow it down and relieve Allister's motion sickness and prevent us all from the same glued-to-the-floor fate. Due to all the time on the floor, Allister hated the idea of lying down and, thusly, refused to sleep for many years until he mastered the art of upright slumber
Allister could do nothing except wait. From the floorboards, it felt as if the entire earth was spinning out of control. Even the air seemed to speed past. The feeling was too real to be a hallucination. He wondered why he was the only one affected. In some ways, he was quite grateful for this and for good reason. If all humans could feel what he felt, they would all be pinned to the floorboards, unable to raise their heads. An entire species whose physical makeup seemed geared towards walking upright, but whose ultra sensitive equilibrium kept them from ever rising from the ground. From his position, Allister could see that this, indeed, would soon be our fate if something was not done quickly. People were losing footing. The rate of stumbles, of trips, and loss of balance was rising at frightening, but just under the radar, rates.
In haste, he called for his most trusted and dearest of friends. These were comrades whom Allister knew would do anything for him. These were friends who would believe his seemingly insane hunches. These were friends who would construct three giant masts rising higher than any building, higher than anything ever conceived. The masts would be thicker than Big Ben in London. They would stretch through the sky as far as anything could, made of hundreds of thousands of large tree trunks affixed together with iron bands. These masts were planted deep into the ground in three strategic latitudinal locations. Once set in place, three sails that blanketed entire nations, entire seas were attached in place, catching the air and slowing the flow of the celestial winds.
Four sails would, of course, have completed stopped the Earth's rotation, leaving half the world in eternal daylight and half the world in eternal night. But, three was just enough to slow it down and relieve Allister's motion sickness and prevent us all from the same glued-to-the-floor fate. Due to all the time on the floor, Allister hated the idea of lying down and, thusly, refused to sleep for many years until he mastered the art of upright slumber
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