

The Orion Nebula from
Observations
of interstellar molecules
by Albert Nummelin |
Hours of life on this planet
by john hudak
I was lying on the ground in front of someone's house
watching the stars, the constellation, Cassiopeia. I saw the trails before
I even used the binoculars. I knew about the trails through time-lapse
photography. I knew about the trails through hours of watching. I would
think about the stars and their paths through the sky, and then would
see the paths as though they had always been there, as if I had never
seen the singular stars themselves.
People became eventually the same as the stars to me. People left trails
I could see, and before long, I began seeing trails and not the people.
And like the stars, whose brightness varied with age, the trails of people
would have an end I could see.
Watching people I knew that died, I was later able to judge the approximate
length of hours of life a person would have on this planet. I would look,
knowing it would not make a difference, because there was nothing that
could be changed. The trail either faded, or abruptly dropped off. How
the life was lived was a matter of little importance. I began to watch
the stars again.
I was lying on the ground in front of someones house watching the
stars, constellation, Orion. The trails were steady patterns: where one
pattern stopped, another picked up. There was always space between the
lines. The lines were unimportant to the other lines. I noticed that at
times one set of lines started almost precisely where another left off..
a continuance.
I started to notice this same phenomenon with the people I observed. The
patterns continued where others left off. Continuance was an aspect of
life. It was an aspect that perhaps could be thought about. Other than
pure physical continuance that I could see, perhaps there was a continuance
of thought.
I was lying on the ground in front of someones house watching the
stars, constellation, Pleiades. I turned on my side and picked a blade
of grass. I wondered how long it could be before I could pick every blade
of grass in the yard, one by one.
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First published in Ozone : A Map of Alternate Realities,
Philadelphia 1992.
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