Night Sketch (standard:poetry, 337 words)
Author: Finn McKool	Added: Oct 24 2000	Views/Reads: 3676/4	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Me on a front porch

Night Sketch “Where are the stars tonight?” he asked his astronomy
professor.  He sat there, on his front porch, at 2:30 am.  She said, 
she couldn’t take the distance this time.  She said, she wasn’t in love 
with him anymore.  She loved him but wasn’t in love with him anymore.  
He hadn’t liked the distance either.  It was hard only seeing her once 
a week, or so, if he was lucky.  But, God, being alone is easier when 
you aren’t alone.  Because, you knew out there, miles away, was someone 
who cared.  Now he was really alone.  Again.  He took another drag of 
his Camel, and watched the exhaled smoke curl into a beautiful cloud on 
the damp night air.  He looked into the night sky, and saw nothing.  
Just one big cloud. 

“Where are the stars tonight, professor?”  He didn’t know if he had
truly loved her, or not.  He didn’t know much anymore.  He knew he had 
cared for, her and that he missed her.  He knew he was tired of double 
checking himself, and analyzing every motion and emotion, and 
motivation.  He knew he was tired of making sure.  He knew he was tired 
of asking,  “Do you really love her?  Do you really love?”  He knew he 
was tired.  He knew he couldn’t see the stars. 

“Where or the stars, professor, where the hell are the stars?”  He knew
what stars were. Stars were billions of lovers.  They were great masses 
of energy caused by atomic reactions that could take a billion years to 
ignite.  He knew what stars were, he’d learned in Astronomy.  He knew 
he couldn’t see any stars. 

“Where are the fucking stars!” he screamed.  He knew he’d been replaced.
 He knew things were too fast.  He knew he was alone again.  He knew he 
couldn’t see the stars but desparately wished he could.  He flicked 
away his cigarette.  The butt winked red on the black pavement, like a 
cool, red, star.  It was the only star he’d see tonight.


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