This Ghost Doesn’t Say Goodbye
written by: Tim Gardiner
The mission is the first of its kind. Rumours abound of a nebula composed of emotions in the far reaches of the universe. The stars are arranged in a crab formation, giving off a piercing shaft of light every few seconds, said to induce mania or melancholia depending on the colour. The trip is long, with a thousand years in deep sleep. They need someone without any family connections and certainly no partner. I volunteered straight away.
escape
a time
and space
Streams of blue light disappear in all directions at the Cassandra Crossroads. It’s impossible to know which path to follow. You stood in the viewing gallery of the space station. I don’t know whether you can see me in the ship’s window. Dark brown hair reflects the artificial light off an elegant sheen, pale eyes not possessive but pensive. You’ve worn THAT black and white dress. I’m under no illusion about my feelings. I wonder how it feels for you…. after a lengthy testing process, rockets fire and you’re gone soon enough, like all the others.
thousand-year sleep
no less
lonely
The ship’s computer wakes me from stasis – there is no way back. It always was a suicide mission. Flickering on the screen is a hologrammatic version of the woman I loved back on earth. There was no way you could’ve come with a daughter to look after. But there’s a strange comfort from my artificial companion, programmed into the computer by you as a futile gesture of affection. The elegance of the dress – the smile – the straight hair – as I remember.
overcoming
my programming
computer
I feel it before the image appears on the screen – melancholia, followed by mania. The exhilaration and despair is much worse than anything my mind produces. You’re there in the clouds of scarlet dust, face clear as Orion’s belt.
rogue planet
a replica of you
is all I have
I’ve made a mistake. The universe will not let me forget it. Steering the ship towards oblivion, the sadness is almost too much to bear…
real hands
on a cold shoulder
false vacuum
You’ve been here all along! During rocket testing, you snuck on with your daughter and entered stasis. We hug and kiss for the first time in over a thousand years.
course set
a distant sun
in blackness
- This Ghost Doesn’t Say Goodbye - September 1, 2025
- Dallas - October 9, 2024
- Orders From The House - July 5, 2021
