The daily report

The moon bickered with the stars. The deep blue ocean that held the curved diamonds in ancient suspense rippled with the commotion. Celestial velvet. Time wrapped in threads of it, thick ribbons of it, spilling everywhere in all directions, bending this way and that under the lazy strain of the movement of all things. And what is left?

Dust, the collapse of galaxies, the collision of all that we will never know.