like the ancients
fiction
edward w pritchard
Like the ancients sometimes the only time I know I am completely alive is when I must leave my shelter at 2 AM and as I move about surreptitiously I observe the night sky.
Is it Jupiter or Saturn low in the southern sky. Perhaps the ancient ones would know from familiarity better than I which planet it is low in the sky at 2 AM in spite of people now having acquired scientific knowledge of the universe.
The night sky is familiar and comforting to me. More so than any companion or Deity. Certainly I feel many hundreds of generations passing this comfort down to me.
The air about me is crisp and clean at 2 AM and the sky is open and honest; uncluttered by human duplicity the universe is revealed to me East to West rotating across the night sky in small manageable pieces.
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