A Generation of Darkness

At the edge of the universe a star winks out from two directions at once, blackness closing in. Nonetheless, a kind of warmth is left behind, though not the kind you could measure in Celsius or Fahrenheit or even Kelvins. There is a silence too, like one made by two lovers who have touched for the first time, their hands reaching out slowly and then quickly withdrawing after the barest brush of fingertips. Now they sit, bursting with stifled excitement, each waiting for acknowledgement, for permission, for reassurance from the other that it is safe to let their joy out. Not that our lovers ever let anything out.

***

Mela is the heart of a galaxy, a motherland of darkness. She is an anchor, a tether, a magnet. Nothing can approach her without becoming her, without becoming a nothingness greater than any sun.

Fia is worlds and planets away and she has been wandering for a very long time. The universe is a lonely place. It doesn’t matter how large or small a creature you are, nor does it matter how many or few of your kind there are. The problem is the vastness, the expanse, the silence. Fia is so used to seeing shadows that the first time she sees Mela she does not realize that shadow is all Mela is.

***

All life begins with at least one explosion. All love begins with surrender, with accepting sublimation into love’s ever-expanding circle.

But what is it like to be born supernova? To go from being seemingly endless light to being only blackness, only consumption, only known by the way you displace others. What is it like to be the absence that cannot be filled by anything?

The days pass slowly for these creatures. They are mouths that food comes to. They will take in anything, even dust. They are the spider at the center of all things, the galaxy their web.

But being the darkness makes you attenuated to the light.

***

Mela tries. She tries hard—so hard, too hard—to love the slow dance of the sky. But she lacks a partner, her very body demolishing the crowd. Not even the memory of the waltzing tune survives.

Still, she twirls in the face of the endless dark, head upturned, arms open. She spins until she is dizzy, and the dizziness is almost like a touch. She holds onto the illusion as long as she can, nausea like a blanket, like a caress, like an embrace.

***

Fia fails. She fails at finding slowness, she tries to be content with what she has, and yet, there is always more. Always more to be, to do, to see. Is she swept up in the universe’s current or is the universe swept up in hers? Her unstoppable force has never met an immovable object.

Time is a beach she wanders. Bored with eternity she continues down its stretch, never finding the end of it. She continues to walk along it even if there is never any reward, any conclusion. Stillness is foreign, the greatest terror she can imagine.

***

Many things are said about love. It is said that lovers are meant to find each other, that the universe makes perfect matches, if only we will listen. It is said that we must let go of the things we love and trust they will come back to us. It is said that they will come back to us.

Perhaps this is the best explanation we have for gravity.

***

The courtship takes millennia. Fia and Mela circle each other in a spiral dance that grows ever tighter and more urgent until they each become the center of the other’s world, the thing around which all else rotates. They do not choose it, but once they are swept up in each other’s orbit, they would.

The stars they once consumed without a thought try to slow them down. Despite its promotion of love, the universe cannot abide the point when darkness is faster than light. Cosmic dust tries to drag them apart, like children hanging on their mothers’ skirts. Yet it is still true that love is the most powerful force, and so they find each other.

They say hello.

***

It is love at first touch. It is succumbing, energy merging, no seduction required. Not after all this time. They are still all mouth, all swallowing, but suddenly it is not to their detriment. It is not a point of shame. It is a feeling that cannot be escaped, and suddenly, they know what it is like to be the rest of the universe, what it is like to be consumed.

They come together like a thunderclap, and for a moment before they finally release, they are the brightest point in the whole universe. Without doubt, without hesitation, they abandon the worst parts of each of them: loneliness, doubt, shame, hunger.

***

In the darkness of space there is a spot that is blacker than the rest. A point of conception, of destruction. It is the legacy of galaxies long dead, and yet, the love they created lives on. Fia inside Mela inside Fia, touch and nothingness and weight. It is brighter than any star that ever stood in their way or tugged at their heels.

***

Where love exists the universe takes note, knowing it is better for love to exist even if it goes unrecognized, unremarked upon by others. It is light within the darkness, it is making, it is a promise that all kinds of creatures can create.

Orion’s Belt has the honor of presenting this intimate yet cosmic work, this symphony of chaos and connection, written by the astounding Canadian poet-philosopher Lynne Sargent.

Lynne Sargent is a writer, aerialist, and philosophy Ph.D candidate currently studying at the University of Waterloo. They are the poetry editor at Utopia Science Fiction magazine. Their work has been nominated for Rhysling, Elgin, and Aurora Awards, and has appeared in venues such as Augur Magazine, Strange Horizons, and Daily Science Fiction. Their first collection, A Refuge of Tales is out now from Renaissance Press. To find out more, reach out to them on Twitter @SamLynneS or for a complete bibliography visit them at scribbledshadows.wordpress.com.