Reading Time: 2 Mins
In the space between heartbeats, everything was gone, as if the wick of time itself had been snuffed out.
In the after we roamed, souls without form, at one with the cosmos, aimless, until the shadowblack of spent stars found their shape again and awoke.
We were aware of all things all at once and so the motives behind the darkness taking shape were not lost on us.
It wanted to control the after, shape everything, and so, we also had to take shape.
We found each other in thought and energy and in the small centres of light escaping from black hole horizons.
As one, we formed a cosmic phiz, memory dictating every detail, from canthus to philtrum, so we could face what was to come.
Our collective consciousness grew as others joined, some out of pride, some out of fear of what the darkness would bring; the two emotions that survived.
What we thought, we created and nurtured. Out of the near-nothing, mote-sized particles grew into suns.
A new universe was born and we were both at its centre and edges, ever expanding and constantly creating new light to take as much from the dark as we could.
From suns grew planets, grew life; our message crackling through gramophone waves, a call for peace.
An idea once a flirtation, has become real. Life everywhere; creations from our creations and we have become gods once removed. Intelligence catching up to our means and ways of communicating from all corners of this living, conscious universe we have become.
The humans on Earth are finally starting to ask the right questions of themselves, and of us, and we are watching their activity with great interest, hoping they can hear what we are trying to say.
They came close several years ago with a rocket called CAPER-2.
CAPER-2 was our very first hello, sent through what they have called Langmuir waves that slow us down enough to be heard. The daytime auroras are the code they need to crack.
If they can understand our message of light, there is hope for them to survive the dark.
The dark has other ideas.
While we speak through auroras, the dark has taken one human and told him our entire story.
And the dark has its own promontory from which it shouts out its existence amongst a virtual sea of thought.
They call it twitter.
Written daily using the #vss365 word prompts on twitter, compiled weekly into a story of exactly 400 words.
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