from prometheus

Chelsea Thornton
Previously published in Dream Journal

Far away in the distant heavens, a light appeared in the night sky. Divine, incandescent, mystifying. I was only eight years old.

Like liquid smoke, it poured over the cosmos in a mesmerizing display in hues of green, pink, and violet. It was similar to the auroras in the way it wavered, the colors mixing with the inky backdrop of the universe.

No one knew where the celestial beauty came from. It had simply materialized into being—bursting forth like a supernova—and lingered for six years.

A deity of the universe overseeing the saintly nebulae. Come to reprimand the black hole demons that devoured the souls of dying stars. An iridescent god of the galactic eye.

As mysterious as its emergence was, even more so was the global change that it had set in motion upon its arrival. Centuries of disputes, division, and war had plagued us all. But humanity found unity in the matter of the light.

At any given time, half of the planet was thrust into darkness. Every man-made light was shut off. Inside houses and office buildings went black. No vehicles on the roads beaming their headlights. Lampposts on the streets were never lit. Light pollution was a thing of the past. Everyone wanted to be able to see that lustrous being that spoke the will of the universe.

Despite sleepless nights staring up at the light—and despite our heavy eyes—humankind had been altered. We forgot our disparities. Kindness and decency were commonplace.

Over the six years that the light dazzled the Earth, I couldn’t remember one single argument my parents had that I had to shield my younger sister from. Like I used to do. Like when I would take Shiloh into our room and play dress-up. I’d turn on loud music that muffled the sounds of our parents screaming at each other. We’d dance around in frilly dresses to lyrics of somedays and happy endings. Now we just did that for added joy in the days of halcyon.

That was until the light went out. The long night had come. It was as though the universe was winding down to die. The stars may as well have blinked out too.

Prometheus had given us another burning gift that had ignited a new age of the mortal race. But this time, he took it away. We would destroy ourselves in its absence.

Our parents’ strife was worse than ever after six years of complete bliss. But it wasn’t just our parents. War raged on our very streets. The world returned to dissent, a schism splitting open the Earth. Signal flares to the universe of our suppressed tempers and passions. It all ruptured right down the middle of our very existence. From mine and Shiloh’s bedroom we could hear it all.

I turned up the music, but it didn’t help like it used to. We could taste the violent sparks blazing from the other sides of our four walls. I took Shiloh into our blanket fort.

“I miss the light, Blaire.”

Shiloh looked up at me with wet eyes. The flashlight she held beneath her chin caused her tears to glisten. I could almost see a reflection of what we had lost in the sparkling drops of sorrow.

“I do too, Shiloh. I think everybody misses the light.”