|
|
 |
Pulse of Life
Posted: 14 May 2009
Word Count: 121
Summary: Flash 2 challenge: Pulse
|
Font Size
|
|
Up in the night sky, she watches a weak pulse of light. She imagines its sound like a burning heavy throb as its life slowly diminishes.
A beacon that warns; a distant beacon sending a last message through space as if in demonstration that all life will end like this some day.
On clear nights, she gazes up at that feeble, pale pulse. She visualises it burning itself out, right down to the very core of its existence.
As she watches, panic churns up her insides as she compares its final death throes to her own fiery sun, its aftermath and the terrible consequences.
She won’t watch the night sky anymore. There are too many fearful questions. Too many portentous answers.
|
Comments by other Members
| |
 Forbes at 07:29 on 14 May 2009
 Report this post
|
Crab nebula? You've captured how she's got things out of proportion very well here. No use worrying about milk that'll be spilt millions of years from now...
Good one Jennifer.
Cheers Avis
| |
|
|
 Prospero at 08:06 on 14 May 2009
Report this post
|
Very good, Jennifer. But as Avis says, nothing to worry about yet.
Best
John
<Added>
Sorry, I meant to say this has a lovely poetic wistfulness. But I deleted it by mistake. Bloody computers! They are supposed to know want you intend.
Poo
Prosps
| |
tusker at 09:55 on 14 May 2009
Report this post
|
Me and computers too, John. I'm only at basic level.
Thanks for your kind comments. Thanks too for the compliment.
From star gazer. Sorry, I mean Jennifer.
| |
Findy at 18:01 on 14 May 2009
Report this post
|
Oh you are the star gazer here Jennifer  Let's hope Avis and John are right though.
Lovely and as John said it has a poetic resonance to it. I had some difficulty with the second line,
| She imagines its sound like a burning heavy throb as its life slowly diminishes |
|
Did not quite flow for me, am not able to place my finger on what is wrong though - something to do with the 'its' I think
findy
| |
|
|
 Bunbry at 16:16 on 15 May 2009
Report this post
|
Hi Jennifer, I'm not really sure why the woman is so upset as the Sun is going to last a zillion years [at least] when she has possibly only 50.
Nick
PS It might be a squillion years, actually - I'm not really sure!
| |
tusker at 19:43 on 15 May 2009
Report this post
|
Hi Nick,
Time is immaterial in her case. Time for her is now, or soon while her own flesh and blood are alive, which could be great, or great, or even greater grandchildren.
Survival of her own species.
I know, it's too deep.
Jennifer
| |
GraemeR at 20:13 on 15 May 2009
Report this post
|
Nice story, again quite poetic in its prose.
The panic didn't seem to quite fit in this - maybe even just a line saying something along the lines of "they say we have millions of years, but how can they be sure?" would justify the protagonists fears a little more
| |
tusker at 06:39 on 16 May 2009
Report this post
|
Yes, Graeme, I see your point.
This was, I suppose, just a thought. I think this challenge has stirred up a few futuristic horrors.
Jennifer
| |
 crowspark at 08:51 on 17 May 2009
Report this post
|
An age old reflection on impermanence and an excellent entry for the pulse challenge. I liked the sight and implied sound, the contrast between the "burning heavy throb" and "her own fiery sun" The last line and that pairing at the end,
There are too many fearful questions. Too many portentous answers. |
|
Poetic.
| |
|
|
| |
Comments by other Members
