The Scale of Love

Eric had always loved the sky. So large, so full of mystery, of meaning that was just beyond his comprehension. The scale of it had always been the biggest draw though. The unimaginable size and scale called to Eric like a lover's song.

He had been invited to participate in a study on the scale of the universe, and had gladly accepted, as it married his two biggest interests, space, and the scope of it. Fresh out of college, he didn't think to check the details on the study group. Or perhaps he hadn't wanted to because deep down he knew people like him didn't get to work on important projects. He was acutely aware of his ineptitude and unimportance, and this study had been the only chance to study what he was really interested in. At first it had been a dream come true, but when he started to hear rumours about "the supernatural" he started to have suspicions. He ignored his concerns, and continued his research. When he was asked to look into connections between ancient sky gods and modern astronomy, he still forged ahead. When his coworkers started to feed him tidbits about an upcoming "event," where he would be the main attraction, the star, he laughed it off, as if it was a joke. It was not.

The day of "the event" came all too quickly, and Eric, pulled from his studies unceremoniously began, for the first time, started to feel afraid. There was some unseen presence that seemed to be getting stronger, growing closer. It was as familiar as his love for the sky. As he was brought to the observatory, he noticed it looked later than it should have been. The sun should still have been up... but wait... it was. But there was something else too. That unseen presence was still growing, and Eric began to feel some sort of connection.

No one else seemed to notice when the sky went dark and the place where the sun should have been changed. Not in any way Eric could have described, but nevertheless, it was changed. Though it was still the same size, it seemed... farther away. So did everything. The trees seemed too far away. The ground seemed too far away. Even his hands felt... farther away than they should have been. No one else seemed to notice. As Eric approached the observation deck, he passed a row of instruments that was longer than it should have been. The deck was wider, the seating further, and perhaps most strangely, the chair in the center of the impossibly larger circle was taller.

And Eric fit it perfectly.

As he took his seat and looked out at the distant sky, far too far above him, true terror began to fill Eric. For the unseen presence was still growing closer, despite the increasing distance between them. Eric could see it. Eric could feel it. Eric knew it. The vastness of space reached out and touched Eric lovingly. They shared a moment.

Then Eric screamed.

Eric had always loved the sky, but he did not love it now. For you find there is no room for love, or indeed any emotion other than fear, in the terror that grips your entire existence when something as unimaginably huge, as vast as the sky loves you back.