Oona awoke early one morning. It was a Festival day, and she would sing in the castle after breakfast. Or mid morning. Maybe early afternoon. It all depended on when she got there.
She was not hesitant. Not nervous. She just knew that surprises might find her before she got there. An unforeseen conversation might take up some time. A view might compel her to stop for a while just to absorb the scenery. She might linger at the table longer than she had anticipated.
It didn’t matter. There were no clocks, after all. Things happened when they happened on Olo. When an event started, it was the right time.
She threw back the covers, stood and stretched, taking a deep breath.
Looking into her closet, she saw a collection of pink dresses, and selected one.

I love this dress, she said with a sigh. I wonder if it is too pink? And then she laughed.
Too pink? It would be perfect.
For all she knew, this scene might be playing out all across Olo.

Midway through breakfast, it occurred to Oona how delicious the food was, the beauty of the day, the friendly table mates, the interesting and entertaining conversation, and she decided that this was the perfect day. When she remembered that the festival was starting, well, it seemed the day couldn’t get any better.
Whales passed overhead, shuttling remote Ololians to the plain. She finished her meal and started on the short path toward the castle.
The path was enclosed by foliage, a leafy tunnel through the forest.
She hummed unconsciously amid daubs of light that filtered through the trees. Glowing orbs oozed through the leaves, floating in the scrumptious air, dancing across the well worn path, and across Oona, too. Fishlike companions darted out, piercing the beams.

When she emerged into the open space, everything changed. The light was dazzling, the crowd was boisterous, and the air was heavy with whales, aloft like balloons or colorful clouds, adding their songs to the jubilant cacophony.
“Better and better!” Oona sang out.
The song was a continuation of the humming.
People turned, smiling and waving in an energetic way.
Good morning! She called back, and slipped into the castle through a side door.
Onni was already there.

Remember, I told you that the holograms don’t tell the stories in exactly the same way over and over? Musicians on Olo also do not perform songs the same way every time. The music was alive. Dynamic. Improvised.
No one ever got bored, because everything was full of surprises. It wasn’t fiction, every story was true. Everybody experiences things in their own personal way.
You or I might be intimidated at the thought of headlining a musical show. Whenever Onni sang in public, it quickly became a sing-along. Everyone on Olo knew the songs, just as they were familiar with the stories brought to life through the holograms.

Don’t take my word for it, meet me in the castle and Festival day, and you will see what I mean.