Out for A Swim

Dear Celeste,

Reassure me, how are you feeling now? You didn't sound alright in your last letter.

I went out for a swim earlier in the afternoon. I was hoping it would just be me, floating peacefully on my back in the vastness of the black sea, but the funny-toothed Martians had cramped the entire pool. They nagged that I never play with them anymore like we used to. So I rolled my eyes and I did. But only on the condition that we toss a light-weight ball, you know, Jupiter or Uranus. But absolutely no Venus. It burns like you can't imagine. And don't get me started on how much it hurts if it smacks your nose. Remember that time when it hit our buddy Zormak right in his eye and he cried? Then the game got awkward and he insisted on joining the game again even with his blackberry eye.

Then I hovered by the light shop to get a few fairy lamps for my mother. She likes to hang them in her bedroom when she prays at night, but the constellations I found were too bright for her eyes, and the old man with an infinitely long beard said they'd run out of mellow red dwarfs, so I had to come back again on Sunday.

As I sailed by two neighboring galaxies, I could have sworn I heard someone weep and long for their love, the voice of a woman, in one corner of the egg shaped galaxy. And in the other snail-like galaxy, the voice of a man. He was sobbing too, the wussy! So I heaved a sigh and clapped the two galaxies together in my hand to bring them closer. I heard a few screams and explosions here and there. The sky lit up with lovely fireworks, I wish you had seen it. Sadly, both the chick's world and dude's world were destroyed, but they managed to meet on a surviving chunk of an old moon. She ran to him and he caught her, both spinning in the air like fools. Ah… youth!

On my way back, I got super thirsty so I grabbed a water bottle from Kepler. Yes! They've got freshwater there, I found out recently, - but don't tell NASA. The Keplers like their privacy- but the water was too lukewarm for my taste, so I plopped in a few icy asteroids and some other things, accidentally of course. I thought they were specks of dirt or maybe ants… And what do you know, those other things turned out to be a couple of black holes! I've had a queasy stomach ever since. Because I had ZERO idea the sneaky voids came in such tiny sizes. Just as I had no idea they came in colossal scales. Holly Fuck. I didn't see it coming, I had momentarily turned my head to say hello to a few demons relaxing in a hot tub of bubbling blue-white stars, and it happened in the split of a moment; the blackness swallowed me whole, like the gaping mouth of a whale.

And now I am here with you, god knows where, but in this world you are a thousand years older. And you are a purple mango tree, branches above your head as if raised in supplication. Too shy to bear fruit, but really nice to everyone and would never deny even the tiniest critter your shade. A silver chime or two hang in your hair, and they tinkle softly when I start reading to you the letter I was meaning to send. And that's how I recognized you.

P.S: That boy who never wrote back, I understand how much you liked him, but he was such a douche. You know what he told Pluto the other day? "You're not a real planet." Imagine… And Pluto KNOWS! He didn't need to be reminded of his old wounds. You should have seen the look on his face, the poor rock of ice. So, my point is, the guy never deserved you, and you can do miles better, no, light years better!

With fondness and galactic gratitude,