I'm trying something new here. Not so much new substance but a different process for creating stories.

Here I'm experimenting making fiction the same way John Cage made music, letting chances do the driving.

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In a time when everyone's a potential Truman Show extra, three young souls—Conibo, Arile, and Pearl—found themselves thrust into the limelight of a televised competition. Their mission: to find and subdue the enigmatic Eenoo, a hermit woman rumored to dwell within the shadowy depths of the forest.

Our trio set off into the wilderness, their every move broadcast to an insatiable online audience. Little did they know that this seemingly innocuous quest would lead them down a path paved with equal parts absurdity and revelation.

The air crackled with anticipation as they ventured deeper into the uncharted territory, their footsteps echoing through the silent trees.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the forest floor, Pearl stumbled upon a dilapidated cabin. A shiver ran down her spine as she realized this was Eenoo's abode. With trembling hands, she pushed open the creaking door...

A fetid odor emanates from within, and Pearl's heart pounds in her chest. She peers through a cracked window, but recoils in horror at the sight of Eenoo's grotesque visage. Her piercing eyes and unkempt hair send shivers down Pearl's spine. With a gasp, she flees into the surrounding trees, her footsteps echoing through the eerie silence.

Undeterred, Conibo approaches the cabin, his bravado belying a flicker of unease. He knocks timidly on the rotting wooden door, but there is no response. He tries the handle, and it creaks open with a mournful groan. A musty smell assaults his nostrils as he steps inside.

Conibo's stomach churns with apprehension as the production crew's voices crackle through his earpiece. "Speak softly to her, Conibo," they instruct. "Make her think you come in peace. We want the audience to feel for Eenoo."

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He knows that the audience is watching, their judgmental eyes upon him. He takes a deep breath and approaches Eenoo, his footsteps light on the creaky wooden floor.

"Excuse me," he says, his voice trembling slightly. "My name is Conibo. I'm here to help you."

Eenoo's eyes flicker towards him, but her expression remains inscrutable. She lets out a low, guttural sound, and Conibo takes a step back, his heart pounding in his chest.

Eenoo's lips curl into a grotesque parody of a smile, and she lets out a piercing shriek that sends a wave of terror through Conibo's body. He stumbles foreward, his stomach heaving.

But as he reaches out to offer comfort, Eenoo lets out a blood-curdling scream. Conibo recoils in disgust as a wave of nausea overcomes him. He doubles over and vomits uncontrollability, the acrid smell of bile filling the air.

Exhausted and defeated, Conibo collapses on the floor, his body wracked with spasms. As darkness envelops him, he wonders if he will ever be able to forget the horrors he has witnessed this day.

Arile strolled up to Eenoo's cabin, the air thick with anticipation. He'd heard the rumors, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of the hermit woman herself.

She was a grotesque spectacle, her skin sallow and wrinkled, her eyes sunken and vacant. Her hair hung in greasy clumps, and her breath reeked of decay. Arile's stomach turned, but he knew he had to press on.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the mysterious device the competition organizers had given him. It was a phone, only it was rigged to do only one thing: to run what used to be called TikTok.

Arile hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was really the way to approach Eenoo. But then he remembered the prize money, the fame, the adulation. He knew what he had to do.

With a deep breath, Arile tossed the phone at Eenoo's feet.

The hermit woman looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. She reached down and picked up the device, her gnarled fingers tracing its smooth surface.

Arile watched with bated breath as Eenoo's expression changed. Her eyes lit up, and a faint smile spread across her lips. She began swiping at the screen, her fingers moving with surprising dexterity.

Arile couldn't believe it. Eenoo, the fearsome hermit, was captivated by a phone.

Eenoo's eyes were glued to the glowing screen, her gnarled fingers swiping and scrolling with an unnatural fluidity. The world around her faded into oblivion as she became lost in the endless stream of images and sounds.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, she couldn't resist the allure of the device. It was a portal to a universe she had never imagined, where people danced and sang, laughed and cried, all with the touch of a button.

Time seemed to warp and bend as Eenoo's fascination grew. The horrors of the forest, the loneliness of her isolated existence, all melted away into the ether. She had stumbled upon a new addiction, one that promised to fill the void in her soul.

Arile watched in amazement as Eenoo transformed before his eyes. Her grotesque features softened, replaced by an almost childlike wonder. He could see the pain and fear etched into her face slowly receding, replaced by a newfound joy.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should break the spell. But as he looked at Eenoo's radiant face, he knew that for now, at least, she deserved this moment of escape.

Arile had triumphed. As he ventured into her desolate cabin, a revelation awaited him.

The squalid interior hinted at a life of solitude and despair. On a makeshift table, a collection of faded photographs depicted a family long gone.

Arile's gaze fell upon a framed portrait of a young woman with piercing eyes and a gentle smile. A pang of recognition pierced his chest. It was Eenoo, a radiant beauty of a child before time had taken its toll.

Her grotesque appearance, her eerie silence—they were all manifestations of her sorrow and isolation. Behind the fearsome facade lay a heart heavy with loss.

Arile slipped away, leaving Eenoo to her phone. A day passed, and the battery drained, the screen going black.

Eenoo's fingers drummed on the void, her eyes glazed. The dopamine drip had ceased, and she was lost. The world outside the cabin pressed in, blurry and threatening.

She stumbled to her feet, a hollow shell. The forest that had once been her sanctuary now felt alien. Her parents' memory, once a warm ember, had turned to ash.

Driven by an unnameable longing, Eenoo followed Arile's tracks, her bare feet slapping against the unforgiving earth. She moved like a sleepwalker, her mind adrift.

Days turned into nights as she wandered, a solitary figure in a vast, indifferent landscape. The echo of her own footsteps haunted her like a relentless tormentor.

Whether Eenoo found solace or oblivion in her self-imposed exile remains a mystery. Her fate, like the flickering pixels on her phone's screen, had faded into darkness.