VAGUE

CHAPTER 6 (PART 7)

CHAPTER 6

-PART SEVEN-

The black had a velvet quality, like the air had been thickened somehow. Without an upwards glance I knew it was star speckled and cloudless. Even in the velvet dark there is the light of the stars, perhaps a promise that even when we yearn for the light of the sun there will be those stars to bring hope of the dawn. It is always the light we crave,

for without it what is our world?

Would be become creatures of the night forever to scuttle and hide from predators imagined or real? Either way we seek the light, the chance to stand up and be strong, to see beauty and be beautiful. For the ability to see others and ourselves, to see nature and its stunning variation is a great gift to each and every one. Without my glasses the starry night was a brilliant Van Gogh, everything bigger and brighter, blurred in the most fantastic way. Just gazing at the midnight blue canvass above stole every thought from my mind, the usual carousel of worries simply forgotten. There were the heavenly stars above and a crescent moon to smile down;

what else was there to know about?

Somewhere in the starry night was a beating human heart and lungs that took in artificial air. Held my hand up to the sky as if to feel my life energy in my fingers, how precarious is existence seemed now, but perhaps no more than those left behind. We all depend of life support systems. The idea of putting a price on a starry night was once nonsense; now we have to travel so far from pollution to prove stars aren't only in the myths and stories of old.

How crazy my ideas were?

The trip alone is so costly that most use it as a wedding, taking that moment under the brilliant constellations to make their vows, hoping that the spiritual moment carries them through the caustic town life that awaits their return. The street lamps reflections in the Sol y Luna stretched out like flaming stilts, ruffled by the cool breeze. It must have been a night just like this that Van Gogh got his inspiration, the natural light above, the man-induced glows igniting the cold water. Bathed in the light of the sun, the moon was more beautiful than even the stars around. The moon came to the sky as a mother comes to sing a soft lullaby, to ease her children into a star-filled night. The moon graced the sky as if she'd had some bright idea, something brilliant needed to shine upon the Earth. Reflected the pure rays of the sun, and in doing so became as beautiful as our star of the daytime. In my monochrome musings the moon is a deep silver, as if she were a rock alone in space, turning pirouettes for no applause. Yet when I look for real and open my eyes that tiny bit more, I see an orb with the company of the sun, reflecting light, not silver, but with a buttermilk glow. It is there, close to our Earth, keeping us company while it may.

On that very moment when I leave my twins on the laboratory and go straight here at the nearest veranda, relaxation flows on my body as I stared at the starry night of November. At the middle of my so-called leisure time during the middle of the night, my phone suddenly rang.

"Yow! Gray Williams on the phone, how may I help you?" I quickly answer his call after a few rang and greeted on the mouthpiece

"Gray!" He speaks while panting out of panic attack

What's happening?

"Yow! Knight-lock what's happening? Where are you?" an urge of senses that tell me he's not okay at all.

"I'm struck with a cyanide!" His voice was cracking in pain

A cyanide?

Shit

"who did that?" I ask him as I walk towards the elevator to go to the Laboratory

"Fucking help! Mate! all symptoms were striking!" He shouts out of fear