Just a Guy
I didn’t mean to swallow the star...
I didn’t mean to swallow the star. Didn’t mean for it to burn my throat and plunge into my stomach, heavy and whole.
I’m just a lonely god in a lonely galaxy, and it sparkled in ways I never have. It didn’t need to. Sure, its critters and cells enjoyed the light, but it had no image to uphold. No solar system of tiny people demanded that it be worthy of worship. Its brother isn’t the god of life. Its sister isn’t the goddess of love. It has no distant cousin, the god of goats, who asks, “What are you supposed to be?”
It never had to answer, “I don’t know. I’m just a guy, tumbling through space, crashing milky ways on my way.”
I could have stayed in the dark and searched my celestial body for something specific to admire, for something me. But what if I found nothing?
The tiny people are waiting. They don’t wait forever.
Brilliant, they’ll call me. Blinding.
They’ll bow, and I’ll shine grander than the god of goats.
My guts twist. Somewhere trapped between the ugly tissues, a star whispers, “I see you, Narcissus.”
But it’s lying. There’s nothing to see.
In under 200 words, write your own story to this prompt: I didn’t mean to swallow the star…
With love & ink,
Casper