Sheeple
Little do people know, their fates are controlled by sheep. They bear great resemblance to the Fates of Greek mythology, with the only difference being that they are sheep. The sheep spin lifeyarns from the wool of the mother sheep, measure them, and cut them. As with handspun wool (or hoofspun), lifeyarns are lumpy in varying degrees. These are the lumps of life, so to say. It is these lumps that make one life different from another. Small lumps are little moments. Big lumps are momentous changes. Some yarns came with bigger lumps and more lumps, as some lives are fraught with more fret and fray, though not all lumps were bad because one man's trash is another man's treasure.
Like humans, like all creatures, these yarns are not spun to be alone. These lumpy yarns are woven together into tapestries of communities. Where lines crossed, people crossed. Where lines twined, people twined. Where lumps clustered, the community changed, the human spirit rose above in a monumental and sometimes unbelievable historical events. But these clusters of lumps exist in an unstable equilibrium and with time, the conditions may shift and change the position of clusters in such a way that, like a memory or a tear in the fabric, it isn't the initial conditions that shepherds the future (though it is the seed), but the effect of an effect that steers the course of future events. And it propagates from phenomenon to phenomenon. Indeed, people's futures are greatly controlled by the ewe-knitted states of a miracle.
