The galactic night air whirled in a frenzy about our hero’s helmeted head, though he was still, too still. ‘Cross the jagged surface of an unblemished asteroid plain he could see the rising stars and was duly impressed by the unspoiled light. When the shadows slowly moved about his form in time-lapse speed he knew his time was near. They had spoke of the dawning of the stars and he had doubted their green slits, but now he knew that all they spoke was correct and the time for him to reach eternal tranquility was encroaching like a roach upon the last stale crust of bread in the slums of New York. The beauty was overwhelming but lost its profundity on the anxiously anchored hero, for it was then, to his left, that he saw the inevitable three figures, each with a blazing form of the four cornered star on their small chests. He laughed silently when the three creatures addressed his knees.
“ Beep, beep.” they sallied. Yet he understood, and thereupon realized that it was he who was small.
“ I am small!” He flung his tormented body to the ground and kissed their webbed feet. They only beeped knowingly.
No comments:
Post a Comment