“There’s one, they say, that’s bound to explode some day.” Morgana said. Her eyes scanned the sky, trying to remember which of the stars was the big one that was set to explode at any moment, though it would take many many years to reach Earth. Her hand raised up, pointing across the sky.
“Betelgeuse. That’s the name.” She said. “I remember the name. I can’t remember the position. I suppose one day we’ll all figure out which one of them it is.” She said, her hand falling down and landing back on the roof of the vehicle.
“They’re big. All of them. Loud too. Too loud.” She said. “Sometimes I swear I can hear them. Like a… rumbling. Like when the earthquakes hit.” She said. “It’s the same sound.”
“They are big,” Bard whispers in awe and reverence to the sight in front of them.
A great expanse of stars.
When she speaks of the noise, they are silent and let the fumes rise into the air and dissipate.
After a moment of consideration, Bard whispers, “it’s normal. People have forgotten it’s normal and want to pretend it isn’t.”
They take another drag as the black cat on their stomach purrs loudly.
As Bard idly strokes the cat’s stomach, they continue, “if given the choice; I’d take the noise over silence,” they say as memories, decades old if not older, resurface, “you can adapt and get used to noise. Because noise is movement. Noise is life.”
They shake their head a bit. “Silence is none of that.”
