The Star
I’m sitting on a bus bench with my arms wrapped tightly around my chest. I’m not waiting for the bus. People can think what they want, because they’re stupid. They need a car, they need a home, they need a family. But I don’t. I feel little in my body and little in my brain. In the shelter, they called me “a risk.” I don’t care. It’s not about me. It’s called astronomy. Life began on this earth when God created people but he didn’t want us to be happy. It doesn’t matter what the Bible says. He had to make us out of something. All of the molecules and thoughts we have come from outer space. Minds are still being born out there and that’s where we get ours from.
Sometimes I just need to stop thinking. Especially late at night. It makes the warmth leave my head, and then it leaves my body and it makes me cold. I lost the jacket they gave me. Then I left my sleeping bag somewhere but I forgot where. I just have to collect myself. Then I’ll be able to see the star.
I need to lie down for just a minute, except that usually makes the police come sooner. All right, I’ll close my eyes. I can’t make the star come any faster. It’s all I live for, so I would if I could.
It’s coming. It’s rays tickle me and make me strong. I would do anything it asked me to do. I would kill people. It’s not like that though. It’s blinding me, cleaning me. The star is so bright now, I can’t see anything else. Why would I want to? It doesn’t have any words. My body is gone and I wish I could stay like this forever. I don’t understand why it leaves. I know what I’m going to do when it’s gone. I’m going to claw my way into outer space to be with it. I’m never coming back.
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