The Next Day

The next day the news had died down. What then was 'now' was now 'then' and had somehow become irrelevant in the eyes of the general populous. For a brief time the comet's long and graceful ponytail enraptured, guided, and mystified the hopeful stargazers as they set their dreams on this brilliant beam of dust, and waited.
The pinkish evening boded well for the light show. Those who wanted to witness the new traveller were ready with lawn chairs, blankets, cameras, binoculars and telescopes, as well as plenty of food, drinks, and card games to tally the hours more quickly. A few added ripples to the atmosphere by bringing along stereos and glowworm-like toys that cast an alien green on the grass and encircled darkened wrists and necks. As if trying to communicate with the stars, the audience sported their own borrowed light: a beautiful sight from afar; we are like you, they seemed to wish to say. Various insects hummed, providing a background music below the subtly violent harmonies that issued from the human and electronic babel. The skies, however, were the focus, and the scenery became the source of action in a complex theatrical spectacle.
The pink faded into a whitish blue that, when one followed it closely, disappeared into the midnight blue that precedes midnight. A small light came into view and drew the millions of eyes towards itself: a mass staring at a distant mass through an arras of colour and optical distortion. The comet was a visual monologue-- a soliloquy for those romantic sorts who dreamt of interpreting its message in a more personal manner. Self-conscious or completely unaware, it bore a certain sprezzatura in its travels through the colours of the sky---a single apparition comet that had flown into view of the earth, pulled and driven, but beautiful as though the violence of gravity were rather a comfortable motion meant to be carried out with finesse, dignity, delicacy, composure (despite its resplendent display of disintegration). The illuminated tail reflected in the eyes of the watchers, but the mystery held a deeper sway than even the pull of gravity: the dark centre remained hidden behind the light of the dust.

But the effect fades at the end.

The party departed at the break of day. The comet granted few, if any wishes. Shadows, grey and imperceptible at first, grew sharper along the earth as the sun rose and the gazers hid their heads under pillows--those who had the leisure to do so.
A few, still awake, pointed to the small stratus clouds developing in the north.

And you stood before me and I saw the comet still in your eyes.

Marlo Burks