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