Most people have guiding stars, or the sun they were born under. For me, my compass rose is the big black, the space between the suns and stars. And I am the luckiest for the space between, my Polaris, is everywhere. The space between the stars, the abyssal chasms that separate electron from neutron, the space between you and I. That is my Maria now, the hollow wind draws my between you and I. A wind full of nothingness of energy. There is fire here. There is always fire in the between. But this fire is what burned the topless towers and reduced a thousand ships to ash. It's there you say, "Hello," and release the firestorm that will consume us both in the end. And I am lost in that blaze.
I have no idea what the hell that means, or really if there's a story there at all. It just plopped in my head last night at the airport. Sometimes these things come in the middle of the story, or as the beginning of a story. The rest of the text doesn't measure up (it would be nice if it would). So those parts have to go.
On the plus side of this story, I have a new author that primes the pump. As you know, Bob, I classify authors I like into two categories, those that provoke those little gems and those that don't. For those new here, there are authors I love on both sides of that fence. I'll still read authors that leave my mind as barren as a radiation soaked moon. In fact, there's plenty of them. The ones that drive these gems out of me are few and far between. Some of them I don't like to read as they don't write anything I'm really interested in. Fortunately I've found some that I love to read and also generate those mind droppings. And now I have a new one. Jay Lake. I don't think this has happened when I've read Jay before, but once they start happening history repeats. It's a good think I like reading Jay's stuff.