Thrum

by Meg Smitherman

Space, of course, is bigger than anyone comprehends, bigger than the human mind can handle. We’re able to come to some understanding of it with mathematics, and philosophy, and even art. We can look at pictures, read comparisons, and conduct complex equations to try to make sense of it. But the fact is that the biological makeup of a human brain is too simple, its neurons too few, to understand the true enormity of our universe. It is incalculably and emphatically beyond us.

“You may need to talk me through it,” I finally add.

Our knowledge is so minute, a tiny droplet in a vast sea that never ends, and we had the audacity to think we knew what we were getting into.

He’s watching me with an almost overwhelming intensity, his unblinking black eyes framed by unnaturally long lashes, head tilted down slightly, as if he’s starving and I’m a meal.

simulacrum

remnant

Heat rises in my face. I’ve driven myself into this corner. I take another swig of wine. “You’re, well, I’m not sure if this will make sense, but you’re my type.”

be fucking fr girl

He makes love to me in the corridor.

what a jump

He smiles, almost sadly. “I am the ship.”

so now we have sentient ships?!!

But once I’m safely inside Pioneer, the door sealed closed behind me, Dorian’s voice caresses my brain. I hear him as clearly as if he’s standing right next to me, soft lips brushing my cheek. No matter how many times you try to go, you always come back.