On the night the sky tore open

On the night the sky tore open and the star dust fell in, I sat in silence, thinking.

I didn’t know the world had changed. I didn’t know the airwaves that I hadn’t contemplated before, or fully understand (even now) could no longer work. I didn’t know all forms of communication had seized to be. I’d mopped the floor, the tissue and matter from the tiles. Like Tetris, I managed to store their bodies into two removal crates. As I sat with my head in my hands, searching my mind for building sites and dumping grounds, I heard the street come alive.

The sky brightened by the minute. I stood to the side of the window to obscure my body. I saw glitter and dust fall like snow at dawn, and children running, gathering it in their cupped palms. Parents took photos with their phones, and discussed the distortion in every shot, like the objects captured were being pulled upwards. The clouds moved fast as they were sucked west. The tear in the sky was slowly letting as much out as it was letting in.

For the first time in almost two decades, my body didn’t hurt. The change in gravity that eventually killed us all was beautiful in the beginning. The pressure on my spine was gone. I cried for no reason other than my body felt like mine again. The bleach on my fingers stung my eyes as I tried to wipe them dry. I wanted to dance again, to run.

Time moved differently. On the night the sky tore open, there was no more night. It was daytime for a week before darkness came and we were pulled from life.

For a week of daylight, I stayed in the abandoned apartment watching them rot. I couldn’t escape into darkness to dispose of them. I was periodically agitated, impatient. Deliriously on a few occasions, I quietly sang just to hear something outside of my own head. Internally I screamed at the crates, and was forced to endure their company, my clothes absorbing the stench. I had to wait for night to come. I was so sure it would happen soon.

For a week I watched through the window as people fell apart, then tried to rationalise and prepare. I saw people driving in cars that steered like psychotic horses. I saw people returning home from the supermarket with groceries and cash registers. I saw parents pretend it was all ok to spare their children, but clutch at them with such despair that the children knew. I watched as they drove themselves mad, fell in love, and took whatever they wanted…

For the last week of my life I watched the world like a television. Waiting for night.

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3 comments

  1. k.delaine · September 26, 2015

    It pulled me in nicely

    Liked by 2 people

  2. the Captain · May 6, 2016

    I really hope you write some more fiction sometime, the imagery in this was lovely.

    Like

  3. Kelly · December 7, 2016

    Wow! Are you doing a part 2??

    Like

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