milkyway by serena stewart galaxy by sophie chudnow

galaxy by sophie chudnow

His world was black and white, quiet as a cookie cutter, but he wanted to be a twinkling constellation, scatttered through the sky, exploding with light and passion, upredictable and beautiful. milkyway by serena stewart

Then, she became his galaxy. The f i r s t time he saw her, she looked like a winter evening, cold, unappealing, and dark, but when she f i r s t spoke, his vision exploded with purple and blue, meteors cascading across the horizon, and he was in love with her scenery. The sunset hue set from there.

Her name was Violet, like the f l o w e r, but she was no pansy with soft petals. He fell in love with the moon she walked on because she took his breath away and suspended him at zero gravity. She was stronger than a lion, brighter than the sun And more beautiful than Orion and his excuse of a belt.

But he didn’t know how soon she would disappear, because despite his world being colored, hers remained dark. The sun never rose for her. It was impossible for it to. Violet’s mind was clouded. She never saw the stars. And the chronic cloudiness concluded her cycle. She was no mark in the sky. She exploded into supernova: a dead star, never to be seen again, in this life or next.

He always watched her but never her symptoms, paid extreme attention to her speech, but not to what lay masked behind her words. There was no way to. How could he? He took shots of dopamine, but no chaser would soothe the burning sensation of his melancholy. Drunk on pointless nothing, his bright world returned to grey, and so he lost his milkyway.

13//Youth