Filed under Books
Fate laughs at probabilities.
Edward Bulwer-Lytton
Filed under Quote
When the universe was new and the planets known to earth not even a glimmer in the gods’ eyes, the two brothers perked out through the center of the universe. The universe was like a drain running in reverse and the twins, for they were mirrors of each other, grinned with shining edges of light. They were dark, visible only to each other in this new universe they had found.
They dipped out of sight, only to return with two jugs. The jugs were shaped like the curves of a mother and could be carried by one or both handles. The jugs were full of old discarded stars from other projects, and no one would miss them.
The brothers started to dribble the stars out into the swirling of the universe. Laughing and talking they started making drawings with the stars. Here was their mother’s hair spilling out along her pillow. There were the birds that called the winds into being.
The edges of their bodies were covered in the detritus of stars and planets and those dribbled off of them as they moved between the galaxies. Could a human have looked at them, they would only have seen the barest hint of their shape, for they were of the space between the stars and the empty space within atoms.
The right-handed twin formed a tight flower bud, hoping that the swirling and expanding of the universe would open it into the flower he imagined. The left-handed twin shaped a cluster into a regular pattern with the patience of a pointillist.
Between them they poured out the stars, splashing in them as boys do with puddles. Recklessly dripping and dripping the stars this way and that.
They danced among the stars, between them, now hugging some close to create a picture, or running their fingers through them to scatter a too perfect bubble of stars into a crazy quilt of patterns.
Eventually, they tired of their game and left the stars to continue their motion and gathered their jugs to leave. They heard their mother calling them home and dropped their jugs which shattered into comets and planets and hurried home to dinner and dreams.
Filed under Writing
Ah! There is nothing like staying at home, for real comfort.
Jane Austen
Filed under Quote
BitterSuites 