Unanchored

The bird lands on a self checkout machine then flies back up to the next floor. Realizing we’re the only two living things in this little world, I follow it. To my relief, the box store gives me up with little issue.

Fiction

Artwork of a planet with rings, resembling Saturn, in a starry space scene, viewed from a rocky, lunar-like surface.

And I’ll be All Alone

Supposedly, it’s 2:00 AM. Alex glares sideways at every clock he sees, letting his head spin in that direction until it loops back into him. Having spent years doing everything he could possibly do in his apartment, he centers himself to the task of pushing his window open. The headlights of a car briefly blind him as the light scatters through the glass, setting off a glowing set of fractals. 

He’s on the porch roof now, and the lights swirl into a starry night sky. The stars connect into constellations and shift over time. Not the petty parallel movement of hours or seasons, but the unrecognizable change from eons of the sun circling the galaxy. He leans back against the house’s plastic siding and curls into something much smaller than himself and waits for the stars to notice his reticence and reach out for him themselves.

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