By Dana Wall
In multidimensional calculus, Clara proved theorems beautiful enough to make her classmates cry. Her equations danced across chalkboards, solving impossible problems, until the day she found a proof that solved everything.
Her professor’s face twisted when he saw it, features rearranging into geometries that shouldn’t exist. “Some answers aren’t meant for three dimensions,” he whispered through a mouth that spiraled inward forever.
Now Clara scribbles proofs on asylum walls, each equation birthing new angles of madness. The doctors say she’s delusional, but they can’t explain why walls keep gaining corners, why the room’s dimensions multiply every time she solves for x.
Beautifully done, never deviating from character. Loved the ending.
Outstanding story. It seems like a good start to a larger work? Maybe a different title, though?
Love this! The proof that solved everything, the spiraling mouth, walls gaining corners,…just fantastic.
This is absolutely brilliant.
At first I agreed with a previous comment, that perhaps a different title would be a good idea, but then I wondered…perhaps the intent was to commandeer a previous description of evil, and by turning it in upon itself, remake it into the ultimate description of multidimensional grandeur, thereby usurping the power of evil?
Just a thought.