The Weaver’s Doubt

Lyra stood before the Unfolding Tapestry, but she no longer saw a monument of silent protest. Where she had intended a quiet testament, a roaring, silent debate now raged. The data-fresco, her data-fresco, had become a lexicon of communal consciousness, a language she had not intended to create. It was no longer a static piece of art, but a living dialogue, and she, its creator, was in danger of becoming its first illiterate.