#2 â Chapter 1 of A Book That Doesn't Make Sense
Tessa Umbra was a perfectly normal 19-year-old genius, that is, at least, until she fell through her own floor.
Naturally, we arenât going to talk about that yet.
After a thoroughly satisfying day of running spheresš around her professors at her Universityâor, if you wished to be pedantic, her Institute of Technologyâshe retired home at a quarter past four to an evening of gaming and ambiguous merriment.
She received a notification on her phone and, upon reading it, believed it to be the worst thing that had and would ever happen in her life.
She could not have been more wrong.
After much consideration and quite undue worry about her rejection from the PhD program, due entirely to her age, Tessa opted to drown herself in the shower. Unsurprisingly, and as she had intended, this failed (as it turns out the human body is not particularly susceptible to a low-pressure stream of water and an aggressively-angled tile floor), and she contented herself with overconsumption of cheap fiction and unhealthy food.
After approximately three hours, twenty-nine minutes, and forty-seven seconds, Tessa decided that this novel depression simply Wouldnât Do. She intended to go to the council of wizened old shrubs and give them a piece of her mind.
Once she had fully chosen to not compliment the piece of her mind with an involuntary martial arts demonstration, Tessa began to gather the willpower to get out of bed and make her way to the train station.
Following the passing of a further fifteen minutes (it was now nearly 10 p.m.)š Tessa rolled over, gathering her comforter to use as a cushion for landing on the solid wooden floor. She began to fall, taking some small
enjoyment in the absurd sensation of Newton's third law.
She braced herself for impact with the floor boards, never considering the possibility that impact wouldnât occur.
She found herself profoundly confused as she fell through the floor.
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