The Night Sky

    The Night Sky

By: Matthieu McCarty, Staff Writer

The stars were wrong that night.

I had been hiking farther than I intended, and the stillness took me all at once.

The ground was sufficient; I chose to pitch camp.

I did only what was necessary, nothing more.

Dinner was appreciated, although not satisfying.

With my mind at ease and the tent waiting for me, I chose to stargaze for some time.

The campfire was light enough for where I could see the close trees, never further.

Their shadows had moved.  

A branch snapped.

Maybe close, maybe far, forcing me to glance up. Though I knew nothing awaited me.

The stars were out now, but more alive than they should have been. Attempting to trace them with my own eyes only caused confusion. The wind was back, maybe imaginative, but present. It was operating in such an odd rhythm. 

I did not move. Nor did I wonder of it.

These stars, the longer I looked at these stars, the more I questioned. I was drifting into a consciousness of my own design.

Up until now, the river nearby had been flowing. 

Out of view, but not hidden from my ears.

It stopped. Why?

Perhaps it had always been still, undiffering.

Choosing not to investigate without finding a reason, I lay back down.

By this point, the fire had died out.

While my mind had an urge to refuel it, saying it was for safety, my muscles would not move off the hammock.

I never looked back at the tent, choosing to stay here.

The night no longer felt like it was moving along in time, for it simply remained present.

Although at some point the river did stop flowing, the wind ceased, the shadows quit moving.

And I think I stopped breathing.