Nine
9. (9/22/2009)
a play to be composed and completed five years from tomorrow
the future.
the future looks quite like a swirl of galaxies.
it often blinks, and buzzes. winks and hums.
the first thing we think of is morse code.
then of semaphore.
and then of smoke signals.
the future is often mistaken with the past.
the distant past.
sometimes when a galaxy swirls a certain way
we think it might be the universe forming
but by now,
the future,
the universe has existed for billions of billions of years.
there is no telling what year it is.
no telling what time of day it is.
what time of year.
what season it might be.
there is no way of telling until…
the stars begin to fall slowly from their background
and we are reminded of snow flakes.
the galaxies begin to fall slowly
and we are reminded of tree leaves.
the light begins to fade
and we are reminded of sunsets during the summer.
the curtain falls revealing the back of whatever is behind the universe
and we are reminded of the new beginnings of spring.
new promises.
the audiences wait around for something else to happen.
but it takes a long long time to get to the future
and so most of them give up and exit the auditorium
unsatisfied with what is to come.
until the last man in the audience,
who was planted at the beginning
stands and walks to the stage
and resets the universe.
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