flâneur

and then everything will be dust - by Carmen - Altered

altered.substack.com · 934 words · saved by 1 readers

One night when we were kids, my sibling and I snuck out of the house to watch the stars on the roof. We climbed a rusty ladder to the top and sat side by side. The view at the top wasn't even that impressive. We lived in a suburban town outside of Baltimore, where the city's light pollution was still visible. But we could still see a couple stars, and I stared at them in awe, shivering in the night with my arms wrapped around my cardigan. The universe looked so vast. Boundless. I don't even remember how old I was. That memory occupies a space seemingly separate from the chronology of my life, untouchable by the clean string of narratives that explain our existence. But I find myself lying alone in bed sometimes, with one hand outstretched towards the ceiling as if I could touch the stars from that night. I think a lot about how small we all are, and find myself going back to this excerpt from Pale Blue Dot. "Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone yo

One night when we were kids, my sibling and I snuck out of the house to watch the stars on the roof. We climbed a rusty ladder to the top and sat side by side. The view at the top wasn't even that impressive. We lived in a suburban town outside of Baltimore, where the city's light pollution was still visible. But we could still see a couple stars, and I stared at them in awe, shivering in the night with my arms wrapped around my cardigan. The universe looked so vast. Boundless. I don't even remember how old I was. That memory occupies a space seemingly separate from the chronology of my…

related reading