Alice Springs, Australia. Clare joined Scotty and I stargazing through the night. The deserted Outback was one lit camp light away from being the most miserable place in the universe. I had never been south of the equator before, nor had I ever experienced such a dizzying sensation. Spinning the story of creation itself would never project “the big picture” through my peripheries into the ends of the earth quite like this.
My backwards Darwinistic approach to the only natural planetarium in existence didn’t require space travel, but getting turned off to the whole idea of civilization itself was certainly an affordable way to approach intergalactic light off of speed. Even so, I should have packed for my first trip to the set of Australian Idol.
I had just become the country’s latest rising star with a talent for social alienation. My next party invitation would have to request my presence on the far side of the moon, otherwise I was sure I wouldn’t be available on that night or any other. Not after I stopped associating “brilliant” with offbeat beer commercials and properly introduced myself to a single stranger in the sky. The mood stalker that never wore dark colors but still asked me to follow him into the backseat of my own time-sensitive existence. From there, I could only cease to be remiss and finally allow myself to be born again. I’d become the candy bar that could only melt in God’s mouth, not in the steady hand that had never once reached up to touch the Milky Way in vain.
Did you say something, Krissie? No, Clare, not when the only message that moved the carbon masses into positively charged being had to be seen not heard. Especially after the unwelcome disturbance that blasted out of our jeep rental’s speaker heads from behind us.
“Turn that off!”
My boyfriend was getting his latest dubstep fix in, and Clara was none
too pleased. The syncopated musical symphony welding automotive assembly line crooks to inoperable wet soundboard hooks had already sparked the most popular new genre in a generation. Once we arrived to Alice Springs, Scotty could only wait for one thing and one thing only.
“Just wait for the sun to drop.”
He had been just as anxious as we were for an opportunity like this. To willingly lose sleep interpreting epic zodiac signs from above, because once nightfall arrived, we would be left alone with the greatest storyteller that had ever existed.
The universe itself.
The temperature stayed pretty cozy during our latest gathering of crossed legs and unsoiled blanket spreads. Our ongoing live cosmic news telecast wasn’t expected to remain bug-free until daybreak, but the seasons in this country would certainly get dryer from here. That meant all the thirsty insects buzzing around our heads looking for one microscopic source of water after another would keep their personal ear, eye, and skin fold inspections as brief and tagless as possible.
There was no need to identify what had just bitten me, not while we couldn’t have possibly asked for better weather conditions. We would however have to check in with the moon at some point. Reports showed that a total lunar eclipse was indeed ready for a full peer review, only I had already been led to believe that our home satellite was best viewed outside of its full phase. The lower the sun rested across the moon’s almost nonexistent atmosphere, the more dramatic the shadows across its storyboard surface would always become.
“Let me see.”
Scotty went to grab his binoculars out of my hands, but the second I became submissive to him in the wild he was sure to lose all interest in taking
me anywhere else for one reason or another. Because of this, I had no choice
but to prey on my favorite soft spot ever, which happened to be his moving lips. That didn’t mean he couldn’t remind me how much he loved me in other ways, but I had certainly forgotten that Clara was even around until she stopped fiddling on her smart phone. She had been trying to identify the constellations above our heads to our ultimate indifference, but only once the dubstep beat kicked off did the stripper’s music begin.