Strangers

Golden. Yes, golden. And ice. 3 ice cubed to be precise, and golden scotch. Divine.

He sat there, alone, in a dark corner (corners are always dark) in George's Tavern. He never took his eyes away from his sctoch. This was the only thing left for him...sometimes...

He sat there, staring, and wondering. Sometimes he wondered what he was wondering about. Things were not really as complex as he deemed them to be. Yet he wondered, all the time. He peered deeply into the scotch. Through the glass, through the ice, through the golden liquor, towards the two gentlemen sitting across him, through these two gentlemen, through the solid wooden walls that sheltered George and his fine collection of delictable liquors, and up into the sky, and his gaze came to rest at a lone star.

Far away, the star stood alone, surrounded by annoying clouds of hydrogen. These clouds were trying desperately to condense and turn into new stars, but their efforts were failing. Time and time again they tried to collapse, and time and time again the expanded back, the temperatures not quite reaching the levels they desired. Irritated, they drifted away. Then others came.

The star gazed at the pitiful efforts of these clouds. It sighed. As it sighed, a huge plume of gas erupted, left its surface and dashed out into oblivion. The star sighed again, as it watched it go. This time nothing happened. More clouds came, and more clouds went. The star felt its existence, and smiled sadly. Yes, it was a magnificent star. A colossal star. It knew that when its time was done, it would explode with an explosion rarely seen. The dream of all stars. A supernova. It had lived a good life, it continued to live a good life. It had nothing to complain about.

Yet, it felt sad. The star looked around, and for light years, there was no one else to give it company. Just the random, deranged cloud of hydrogen. It wondered at the efforts of these clouds. They tried so hard. They deserved to turn into stars. But fate was cruel to them. The star wanted them to turn into stars. It wanted company. But alas, they wre not as lucky as it had been.

The star turned its gaze away from these clouds, and gazed into oblivion. Its gaze passed through other stars, through nebulae, through galaxies, entering a particular planetery system, past the gas giants, into an ordinary planet, through the mountains, through the solid wooden walls that sheltered George and his fine collection of delictable liquors, through two gentlemen sitting across him, through the glass, through the ice and it came to rest on him.

He felt a light coming. But he didn't know what it was. It came out from the place he had always been. But he was too slow to react. It came quickly, suddenly, and blinded him. And in that flash, he saw it all.

He threw the glass, spilling its precious contents across on old lady's fibula, and he ran outside, screaming...