Stories

An Intergalactic Journey

If this were a world of light with beings made entirely of it I’d be shimmering through, reflecting the quiver in my walk or speech. I sound fantastic to the outsider, the aliens of sand or mountains who, in their world, look at the sea and smile as light from the sun, my over-achieving cousin, reflects against the calm of the water. He dances and performs for you and your heart is lightened as you emerge from a cave of synthetics, made by the unfortunate that is darkness, the great vacuum with space an ornate version of this predestined fool. I understand this fool for I am of light; when I am, I am. If the light stops then it’s extinguished. So, as I shimmer I do not dance unless it were for Santa Muerte then I summon in the little jig I do. Thus, I expect his visit as I shimmer through ready to merge with the vacuum.

Daily prompt Shimmer

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