Adenine, Mad Hatter of the Djinn Dimension

Adenine drifted through the hinge thin corridors of the Djinn Dimension the way a half remembered thought wanders through a drowsy mind, drifting upward, then sideways, then politely refusing to obey the usual arithmetic of motion. Her hat was a great spiral of moonlit vapor, unspooling behind her like a question the universe had forgotten to finish.

Those whom encountered her claimed she spoke in paradoxes so elegantly braided that even the paradoxes felt flattered just to be in attendance.

“Time,” she once announced, “is simply memory wearing a borrowed coat, and a poorly tailored one, at that.” And although nobody understood what she meant, they all agreed it must have been terribly profound.

In the teahouses of storm spirits and wayward elementals, they said that Adenine could see the seam between truth and metaphor, the place where ideas hatch into beings, and beings molt into ideas, and ideas coalesce into dreams.