Somewhere in this city, scattered about like so many lightning bugs in a summer garden, floating aimlessly then suddenly taking off into mad flight, are people connected to me. Our lives, zigzagging in patternless dashes, occasionally crossing and repelling away, drifting.
I think about our movements, always curious, always wondering if there’s a sense to how we come together. Is it nature, genetics, socio-political or economic patterns, or a million other coincidences driving us somewhere? Are we just space junk, bits of ancient planets broken off by asteroids billions of years ago, being pulled along on a trajectory drawn across the universe by gravity and time? We clink against each other, sometimes lightly, and sometimes powerfully, bouncing off, changing course, and continuing on.
It is now that I decide to be a space rock with a purpose. A comet blazing across the sky. An agent of change and a beacon of the universe. I will tear through stars and galaxies, lighting up the dark skies over planets at the dawn of their civilizations, prehistoric aliens looking up from their astral bonfires, making wishes on the dust tails burning in my wake.