Broad Daylight

[Traveller13]

Improvised story. I don't like the "she"'s everywhere, but that's what you get with one-person stories.
I'm unhappy with the end bit too.

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April 13th, quarter to something.

Lucida Tardapple was staring at a blank sheet of paper, and was also on the verge of winning the first female Fields medal in history.
Since her first science lesson, she just knew that something wasn't right. Everything falling into place just like magic, every science completing each other, human logic explaining the universe with an accuracy that was almost scary, all this seemed a bit too... fake.
There had to be a flaw somewhere, something so fundamental, so simple, that everyone was taking it for granted.
So she decided to listen to what her instinct was screaming at her.
And after listening, like most people, she was following the totally opposite direction.
The concepts she was toying with --spaces with infinite dimensions, 2-sided triangles, equations that made weird "thunk" sounds-- were whizzing around and making her dizzy, and she was struggling for everything to stay still so that she could actually write something down.

She tilted her head upwards, and couldn't feel her body anymore.
There was a crack in the sky.
She had found it.
The sky was there, a continuous blue patched with irregular white hazes, but there was a colorless crack superimposed over it. She could see it.
Because she understood how logic was flawed now, she didn't try to conceive the shape of the crack, nor why she could see the crack and the sky behind it simultaneously. Instead she just observed, with her head tilted upwards at an impossible angle.
And then a substance started pouring out of the crack, flooding the trees and the scenery. Countless amounts of fingerless fingers silently invading the rooftops. Some of the fingers looked like spirits, some of the spirits looked like balls of light. The world was filled with new information, superimposing into infinity.
The silence was so vast that she could hear the scenery. All her senses turned into one, which then dispatched into a countless amount of new senses that lasted for a second, then changed into something else. Her senses became the world around her, were the world around her, she was everywhere. And yet she didn't feel a thing.
At that point she realised that she was looking through the ceiling, and the ceiling came into view, superimposed over the sky, the crack and all the rest. She was starting to think again, and also starting to feel very ill. Her nose was bleeding, her ears reported a deafening roar.
She closed her eyes, and a dreamy blackness superimposed everything.
Lucida's head tilted down again, her mouth flew open like rusty gates on a stormy night and she vomited all the concepts she had stored up. All the formulas, equations, definitions, algebra, butterflied out of the bottom of her throat onto the table where they hovered onto the table in a mass of thick organic and lettery goop, and started to mingle with the paper and walls. Details from the outside were roaring past her now, because she couldn't help focusing on them.

A couple of hours later, Lucida's eyes opened again.
Her stomach felt empty, but not as much as her brain was.
She had lost it. Things seemed to have come back to normal now.
Blink, pause, hiccup, blink. Think.
Think?

Everything was gone. All those years of passionate work, math built up against math, ideas for articles, even elementary school stuff.
She grabbed the chewed-up pencil that was lying on the floor, more out of reflex than anything else.

There was something written on the paper. Maybe an explanation as to what had happened. How bladdy predictable, she thought.

"Sorry about the inconvenience, everything is fixed now. ~L.T"

This threw her into a fit of laughter. All bodily aches and pains went away, as well as her research career, while she went in her bedroom to pack.

She was going to New Zealand.