In a dark space, light fades among translucent beings. My brain, seen clearly through a soft membrane has a glow. I whip my fingers over the dusty keys of my keyboard like a stage coach driver whipping tired horses to move faster. The filament of my thoughts begins to grow, and I panic because I know that light that isn’t captures fades in the blink of an eye. Peopled Worlds fall out of my fingers, trickling light. I capture the glow on dying paper or cast it into the fathomless waves of the internet. I watch it drift away, while my fingers grow still. I hope someone finds my light.
I pick up my book, light fills my eyes. I commune with people I have never met. Perhaps they are passed away. I feel honored basking in the dim glow of the light they left behind. There stories fill my darkness. My mind is alive, drinking the sacred glow of human thought. I smile, as the glow in my mind lives for but a moment in the endless darkness.
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Copyright © 2019 Zachary W. Gilbert