Flynn, Michael - Falling Stars by Flynn Michael

Author:Flynn, Michael
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2006-12-08T22:29:26+00:00

Voices: Psalm 23

She drifted through a world that never seemed entirely solid or permanent. Forms and shadows came and went, glimpsed between periods of darkness. They seemed strangely distant, indistinct and sometimes surrounded by a pale rainbow of colors, like objects viewed through a very thick prism. They were never the same twice. Sounds were slippery, never quite grasped, running like quicksilver through her mind.

Each time the darkness lifted, the forms and shadows had changed, as if she were but catching intermittent glimpses of an ongoing drama.

Once, there was a solidly built man sitting beside her, his head lolling on his shoulders, eyes closed, gently snoring. For some reason, the sight filled her with both a warm comfort and a vague distaste.

Another time, it was a smaller man with fine hands and feet, pacing tigerlike by the window. He turned at some motion of hers and she saw eyes of a pale green that she carried with her into confused and lustful dreams. Still again, she saw a slim, black-haired woman with eyes like still waters over bottomless pools.

She thought that they must have names — indeed, that she herself had a name — but they did not come.

There were other shapes, too. Boxes with blinking lights; tubes and rails; men and women garbed in the colors of angels. There were names for them, too.

Often, she felt a nagging urgency, a sense of things undone — though what things, she could not tell —

and of consequences most severe; and so her dreams were often troubled by inchoate menace creeping ever nearer. Sometimes the urgency was sister to guilt, the knowledge that she had done something awful and would be called to account. She was pursued in those dreams, running through a formless darkness, seeking shelter or protection or simply an end to feeling.

Gradually, she realized that she was alone in her world, the single creature of an inept God, one Who had neglected to finish what He had begun. The universe was one vast darkness because the light had not yet been separated from it; and things had no names because there were no names until she chose to bestow them. She toyed with the notion for a timeless interval, and names like “Barry” and “Ned” and “Roberta”

occurred to her, though to what objects they might be applied she could not decide; and names without objects were only sounds her mind gibbered to itself.

To name names meant engaging the universe, and it was not the sort of universe she cared to engage.

Lonesome, dark, haunted, abandoned by its God … The occasional glimpses she had were an irritation and a distraction. There was greater comfort in drifting through the nothingness and hoping that it would never end and the darkness would go on undisturbed forever.

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