Alone and tired, I sat down on the cold terrace floor, and looked up at my night sky. It was brighter, and sharper, than it had ever been before. The stars shone as clear, distinct pinpoints of light; shapes and figures abounded on the black canvas.
It was a hunt I saw. A chase. The hunter was after his prey, his back arched to steady his aim, an arrow nocked in his mighty bow and poised to release. The prey? I couldnt see the prey. It must be too far off. And the other stories distracted me.
There were shapes, changing form with every second glance. A turtle, small in a corner. A gigantic eagle, frozen mid-flight, streaking across the sky. The signs of the zodiac; I dont know how I knew them. But I knew each one.
I saw the one I wanted to see. The Aquarius. It sparkled in its complex arrangement, standing up on end. At once it seemed, the stars had taken their positions. The ones irrelevant dimmed to the background. Probably they moved into shadows or were taken offstage. The ones who mattered, the dancers, the actors, the cast, took the spotlights. I saw nothing else now.
I sat there, closer to the sky than I'd ever been, seeing the one tale unfold, admiring the one portrait on the largest blank frame. It didnt matter if I looked away or if I rubbed my eyes. The sky had frozen. There was only the one story on it now.
I have to tell him.
I have to tell him now. The waves will wash everything away. He must see it too.
I tried to get up in time. The wind had grown stronger. I held on to a pole, to support myself. And the waves struck. Suddenly, I was in turbulent, raging waters, holding on for my life. It wouldnt kill me, I knew. But it would wash away the sky. That too, somehow, I knew.
The waves passed me, their work done. I was on the floor again, looking up at the sky. My clothes were drenched, my hair wet and slick against my scalp. The sky was black and blank. It gave away nothing. The stories had been wiped clean.
I continued to sit alone, on the terrace of an unknown skyscraper, in an unknown city, wearing unknown clothes, for unknown reasons.
A cold wind blew against my face.