Trajectory

Way out in the universe, where black turns to blue, there is a giant orb. It has no substance. Only a perfectly uniform white outline indicates it’s presence.

From out of this crisp clean outline other equally crisp lines shoot out into the void.

Perfectly straight. Never wavering. Determined in their singular purpose.

Floyd awakes.

The shock of appearing in random places has long gone.

He is in a bed.

Next to him lie a couple. They appear to be in their final embrace. Both men. Both dead. Although it does not appear they have been dead long. Or have they? Nothing makes sense anymore.

What with it being the end of days.

How long will he be here before he reappears elsewhere?

Will this be the final time?

Why does he still exist?

Shouldn’t the bed be warmer?

Outside, he hears cats wailing. Hundreds of cats. Thousands maybe? Millions?

From out of the bedroom wall appear three crisp white lines.

They head directly for Floyd and his new companions.

___

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