34-24-36
He sits in a fluorescent room at Cornell
Salt and pepper hair;
beard like Moses.
He hasn't slept for five days
Pacing the lab
Telescopes that leave his eye permanently sore
and spits back nothing but strings of numbers
He rubs his face and drinks from a glass bottle.
Sorting out a pinprick of intelligence
- hypothetical intelligence -
From noise
White noise
Outside, the stars are bright
Inside, the stars sing alone.
He's still searching.
To the makers of music - all worlds, all times
HD 209458B
150 light-years away
Somewhere in Pegasus
They've been searching for hundreds of years
Sending thousands of messages
that return unanswered.
A man wakes up, fiddles with
the electromagnetic device atop his head
And thinks clear, simple thoughts
Universal thoughts
1 + 1 = 2
2 + 2 = 4
It is the simplest thought he knows
Picked up and beamed into the direction of Earth
Answer, he thinks
1 + 1 = 2, answer me!
34-24-36
HD 209458B
We are here
We are here
We are here
Where are you?
YOU ARE READING
Suicide Lane Cafe
Short StoryA collection of short stories, drabbles, and bizarre things.
