Sunday 26 December 2021

Cassia's Comet

 

by Romana Guillotte

sparkling cranberry and ginger

 

 

4069 BCE

‘A new moon in the sky!’ Cassia’s cousin gushed, as she bounded into the hut. ‘Grandfather said you should come see.’

‘That’s impossible,’ Cassia replied, ‘It can’t be a new moon.’

‘But he said this is how moons are born! He’s seen it before himself.’ Her cousin kept up the excitement. ‘What shall we call it?’ She knocked over a row of pots, which crashed to the floor with a great crunch. ‘Oh…Cassia, your mother will be angry at me.’

Cassia looked over the debris, first with anger, then curiosity. They fell into a meticulous formation that fascinated. ‘No matter.’

‘Are you coming to see the new moon?’ Her cousin bounded for the door.

‘You go ahead. I’ll see it another time.’ Cassia immersed herself in the study of the pots.

#

2020

‘It’s because we have so little light pollution,’ her brother mansplained, ‘that’s why those big-city liberals can’t see that there’s a new moon forming in the sky.’

‘That’s not how moons form.’ Cass figured it was a comet and knew the unannounced arrival was just perfect for a year where CIA and FBI files on Astral Projection and Aliens went without notice. ‘It’s probably a comet.’

‘Want to come see the new moon?’ Her brother ignored her correction.

This conversation sounded so familiar. ‘No, I have to finish this application. Besides, I think we’ve had this conversation before.’

‘Pfff. When?’

‘Like six thousand years ago. I think that’s the last time this comet came around.  I was working on a geometric theory in that lifetime.’

Her brother scoffed again. ‘Right, sure.’

And he left her to work on her application to study Quantum Field Theory. 

#

8109

They drifted into the natural orbit, in the designated space they reserved for the rendezvous. An Ensign lit up as they read the field report for any space debris. ‘Oh! Something appears to be in the sky above the old Terra Firma. It’s small, maybe a moon?’

‘I don’t think that’s a moon, Ensign.’ Science Officer Cassiana said, ‘I think it’s my comet.’

‘Your comet?’ 

‘Yes, I missed the last two times it passed in previous lifetimes. I think it’s finally time for to see it.’ 

About the author

Romana Guillotte obtained her MFA in Writing for Dramatic Media from UNLV, then shook off the sand and glitter of Las Vegas to sort tickets and make awkward eye contact with filmmakers on the Film Festival Circuit. Her work has appeared in Saturday Evening Post Online, Sci-Fi Lampoon, and Hypnopomp. 

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