When Earth was merely a passing thought. When stars performed in perfect harmony without end. When the multitudes of galaxies were only a babe cradled in the pockets of space. He was there.
He was there to witness the birth of the sun. He saw the stars come to rest for an intermission. He was there with his fiddle, strumming the planets to life. With his fiddle in hand he would tumble through the endless void of space, bringing thoughts to life with only one strum. He was the one who started it all. He was the space traveler.
His music swirled to the center of the universe, he imagined what each planet would hold. He hoped for the future and wished for the past, but always lived in the present. For in the present he could see. He could see the beginnings of his creations, he could witness the birth of civilizations. It was all beautiful to him. So with the stars in his eyes, he continued to create. He created and created until there was nothing left for him to create in this galaxy. And the notes of his fiddle carried over time and space. He was the space traveler.
But alas, not all good things must last. For the space traveler had to part ways from the beautiful system he called home, he had to move on to the next. With fiddle in hand he said goodbye to the stars, the sun, the moon, and the planets. His farewells followed him out to the next galaxy as he left his little children to grow and learn for themselves. He was the space traveler and he travelled away.
However, when the night sky is clear enough to see the stars and the fields of this Earth are quiet enough to hear the flutter of wings from a passing bird, you may look up and see the creations he left behind. You may even hear the music from his fiddle in the wind. So next time you look up at the stars, all he asks is for you to look at his creations with awe and wonder, to appreciate the little things you have been given, and for this Earth to give you joy. For you are the space traveler now, and you must show the world your own creations.
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Wings of the Cosmos and Other Short Stories
Historia CortaWe are riding on the wings of the stoic eagle, the delicate dove, and the foolish pelican. Or perhaps there is more to it. Space is everlasting and vast, the mysteries it holds are something we have yet to crack. These short stories are about the my...
