On their journey to the Peaceful City, Mercy and Felicity came into a small valley ensconced in a fog that made the landscape shift like a billowing flag before their eyes. They walked dazed, amazed at how their minds bent with the air.
A hidden voice came to them, more felt than heard. “What would you like to be?”
In astonishment, Mercy and Felicity held hands. A serene look came over Felicity. “I want to be perfect.”
“Perfect how? Be certain, specific.”
“Then you will be dead.”
Mercy felt her friend’s hand go limp. “No!” she cried out.