KIN [Nov2013]

I have a recurring dream. I think it relates to an event in my youth; it’s difficult to tell with absolute certainty; I’ve seen many wonderful and horrible things, and my time is at an end. Will it be a rebirth, or just a slow fading of my essence, my spark, until I’m just an empty husk, useless and forgotten?

I don’t sleep as well as I used to, and even in my increasingly infrequent periods of rest, I dream of frightening things. In my dream, I am reaching out to my children, but they draw back, as if I’m a stranger – unwelcome, unknown and unpredictable. They are afraid of my death, and their own, and perhaps in some small way, blame me for not being the raging warrior I once was, who nurtured them and protected them from harm. Is it true? Do my offspring forsake me? I would do anything…… ANYTHING .. to protect them.

Ah, but children, what do they know, but the wonder of growth and laughter and frivolous things. I have sacrificed much to help them mature, and I wouldn’t change a thing, even if I could. Those are questions for the Creator to wrangle; questions of my own have not been forthcoming, but only tantalizingly teasing hints for my intuitions to ponder. The Creator seems both distant and close, but ever elusive when I’ve attempted to examine it directly.

My resources were so low…… I had to borrow from my neighbors, though they hadn’t much to spare from their own responsibilities. Culture of my species talks of a clarity – a brightening – toward the end, where one sees all things clearly and true, and I wish for that spark, though it may signal my end. I have been foundering in a cloud of uncertainty for so long. I have seen many of my children die and no parent should have to survive such a thing. I am no longer lean and fit, and my increased size and weight disgust me. I am tired, and grow wearing of the seemingly endless days of waiting.

Weep not for me…….. I’ve had a good life. Though these musings may seem morose and depressing, but I still enjoy a lightness, a freedom of form and a sense of wonder and satisfaction. Stay with me for a while, if you choose, and I’ll ponder my sins, and my joys, and then the record will be finished.

_________________

I was born in a time of conflict and strife and there was death and rebirth and chaos -- so many reactions and convolutions and uncertainty. When I was yet a wean, marauders from outside invaded, killed and consumed my kin. I was horrified, naturally, but also grew up faster than my time would dictate and learned to fortify my walls and to keep my strength up for the next battle, wherever it should be. I was alone, and well, lonely.

Then, she came. Ahh, she was the light in my heart and I loved her. I love her still, though she has gone before me. We sired children, and they flourished. We danced together, and our family grew – some having offspring of their own. We hunted together for game to feed our children, and the game was abundant, and for a long time, our combined love shined for all to see. The Creator had surely smiled upon us all and we were fulfilled and content and wanted for nothing.

She didn’t want to tell me, not wanting me to worry, but I knew, and eventually she confessed to a heaviness deep inside her, a mass that she could not exorcise that caused her to gasp with the pressure of it. We prayed for her to be healed, but it was not the will of the Creator. Her skin became so light, and she collapsed, wracked with an interal fever. I could do nothing to help her, but comfort her until the end.

Weep not for me…… I have had a full and bountiful life, and as any creature or entity in the universe will tell you, the gift of love is worth dying for; the gift of love is eternal and though I don’t know what will happen after my own demise, I know in my heart she will be there, shining and engulfing me with her nurturing fire.

She expanded to the limits of my awareness, leaving a token of herself to comfort me. That’s just like her – always thinking of everyone but herself. I can’t wait to join her. Her body is very, very tiny now, and no longer visible to the beings that have formed on our children’s surface. She is incredibly massive for her size, and her tug against my influence is comforting. Some of the beings who once observed her can no longer detect her spirit, but characterize her as a “neutron star”. She is much, much more than that, even in death.

I hear her in my private moments when I ask questions to the cosmos, and I feel a comfortable massiveness gathering in my core. I have things to say, yet there are none to listen; it is the message of ages, which men asked of angels, then forgot the answers. I know my questions – all of them – will soon be answered, and we will both again shine for all time, together.

I am ready.

reply to post by argentus


Interesting story. I have ever wondered if a Planet or a Star is Sentient. An interesting story.

P

Gorgeous

reply to post by pheonix358


Much appreciated! I wondered if I made it too obvious too soon what the protagonist is, and then wondered if anyone would understand it was the story of a binary star system, in which one had gone supernova.

reply to post by zazzafrazz


Thanks, Zazz! like dat lucky ol' sun, ain't got nuthin' to do, but roll around heaven allll daaaay*..




*unless they have the same fears and joys as the rest of us......

reply to post by argentus


Isn't it interesting how we have given planetsand objects in the cosmos male and female names and attributes, and even have star nurseries. Great idea for your story. Good job.

reply to post by argentus


Surreal, it put me in a very strange mood - but in a good way

A little sad even though we weren't' supposed to be

I like that kind of melancholy though - a lot

in my imagination space is just like that - living

I starred and flagged it last night my friend - but was too stupid tired to comment

:-)

reply to post by grayeagle


You put your finger on the very thing that inspired this little story. Thanks!

reply to post by Spiramirabilis


Thank you much, Spira (can I call you Spira? -- my fingers always fumble with the whole of your name) ;o)

As usual, you see the heart of what I was trying to convey. Star systems are timeless, by our measure. .. And yes, there's a certain sadness to love lost, but with a hope of reunion, just like people do. The brave little star that could.

reply to post by argentus



I love space, stories in space - and pathos

nice

I like Spira - wish it was my real name sometimes :-)

I and L - too many - in a row...you have no idea how many times I screw up my own login

I finally had the time to read it all , beautiful and it has indeed similarities my story keeps your story in balance and visa versa

reply to post by 0bserver1


Thank you Observer....... I'm humbled that you enjoyed it. Cheers.

reply to post by argentus


I really liked this story. It works on many levels and the writing style is perfect for the piece.

Thanks for transporting me away for a while...

reply to post by Riffrafter


Thank you Riffrafter........ a writer can't ask for any more than that -- to temporarily take someone away from their conventional awareness. High praise, imo.