“I have a theory – ”
“Here we go.”
She smiled. He glared.
She could tell exactly what was going through his mind. An internal battle about what was more important: yelling at her, or making his point.
The latter usually won out. “I have a theory,” he went on, speaking as though he had not been so rudely interrupted, “that when we die, our… soul, for lack of a better word, disperses into an infinite number of particles. Energy that bursts apart, each tiny fragment then somehow reconnecting with something else.”
“No, no, no.” He shook his head, looking exasperated already. “That would mean your soul stayed intact, and just woke up again as something else. What I think happens is that when we die, our souls essentially explode, that we are all our own ‘big bang’. That when I die, maybe some part of me will find its way into another human, but maybe some of me will end up in a cat, or a frog, or a dandelion.”
“So… do you believe that is the case now, then?” she asked. “That right now, at this very moment, we’re all just… pieces of recycled souls, basically?”
She hummed thoughtfully, imagining human souls as patchwork quilts. “Maybe some part of me will end up in a spider, next time around. I’ve always thought I would make a nice spider.”
“But not all of you would,” he instantly pointed out, like his bizarre theory was already proven true. “Some of you might be an arachnid, but maybe some of you could also end up as the fly.”
“You think it possible to be the predator and the prey, you mean?”
“Yes, exactly.” He nodded fervently. He always got so excited about his abstract ideas, it was almost easy to start believing them herself. “We are all things. The beauties and the beasts, the villains and the heroes… the weavers of the webs, and the very fools who get caught in them.”