The night of him looking at the stars was the night that everything changed.
That night as the planets danced overhead, a thought grabbed him and then shot right up his nose and into his brain, almost taking his breath away.
Here he was abandoned in Space, a traveller - and whatever the dimensions of this universe there could only be so many travellers.
He had no idea what brought him or sent him to this place , but whatever he was going through was unique – perhaps what he was experiencing really meant something.
There was a reason for his existing.
If
that was true, then everyone else he knew or met or saw was travelling
too – all of them wound up by the same key and sent on a path with
little decision on their part as to the path they should take.
If they had been moulded by a god - that woman in the bakery, or the postman, or the kid who always cried, then there would have been angels at their births – but even if their heart,or their existence or their imagination was just an accident of the universe – they were still unique, still special, still a traveller.
So whether he jumped to conclusions or jumped to attention or jumped out-of-the-way, he told himself to remember – no one, that he could see, had asked to be a traveller.
Be kind.
bobby stevenson 2016
"we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars..."
"we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars..."
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