Pablo Esbert Lilienfeld: based on Rodrigo Sobarzo’s Mining

Purple

I’m alone in a planet. Something happened some minutes or some years ago, I’m not sure. Before it was very hot but now is cold. This is what I can remember:

First I saw the light from far away. The giant space in front of me felt like a long-time inactive volcano, waiting for me in silence. I was walking firmly and my steps resonated in blue and worn out pink on the floor of the hangar. The light went brighter and bigger as I got closer and its blinding rays started to hit my eyes. The huge space became a corridor, making the sound of my heavy boots more metallic. I could hardly see the crumbling paint on the iron walls, or the rotten cables hanging from old panels on the ceiling. The light was then flooding every corner of the tunnel and all that existed were the sound of my steps bouncing in layers and the white over white over white over white.

I finally reached the end. I brought my hand forward towards the over-exposed infinite point of emptiness. Then the other hand, and I slowly walked into the shining void.

I’m now in the other side, and all I see is a wooden rectangle. It’s floating in an empty endless black space. It’s slowly turning and making the air move. Only that there’s no air. It’s rotating horizontally and adopting the form of a dining table. No sound. The wooden piece is trembling. Broken parts are jumping out of it. Star-shaped splinters are exploding into the vast space from its corners. No sound. Then a final shaking and the wooden piece is violently separated in two parts, each one of them falling in diagonal into each half of the universe. On the surface, purple is revealed and propagated in stains giving shape to a new galaxy.

I’m alone in a planet which floats in a purple galaxy. It’s very cold.

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