Pluto is a busy planet. The land of eternal night never sleeps. It's a choppy go go go place where nobody stops and the roads run on and on. The buildings there are made up of steel and only the lavish and wealthy can afford the stay. The people are black suits and black dresses and black hair. Their breaths, champagne. Stop lights line the edges of every street blinking in the most impossible of times, halting the crush of cars before they have even started moving. The blare of traffic and the click of heels tap to the beat of the planet's heart. I've heard it sounds like a hurried jazz.
Beyond it lies a crystal observatory where you sit alone. A telescope shifts and shimmers to every movement of your iris. A bridge connects your sight out towards the stars. You spot Saturn and Jupiter and the sun as a pinpoint in the glass. A quick blink and a flick of a knob lands your gaze beyond the big planets to Earth.
Earth is grey and alone. Much more empty than the lights and glammer of Pluto. You zoom in and can even spot her lonely moon still orbiting around the sad planet. You think to yourself. How much faith can a moon have in such a disaster. A poor widow, still waiting for her partner to come home. Of course you've heard the stories; everyone has. But still, you have difficulties believing that Earth was once filled with wonder.
Some say that it used to be green. You haven't seen that colour in quite some time. They've described it as emeralds and the sea on a clear day. Some say its the colour of mystery and is a fog, a mist. Your mother says it's evil and bites the eyes of the jealous. But before all that, in your mind, stands the image of a blue planet shrouded in a blanket of forest. It's hard to describe a colour isn't it?
Ah yes you've daydreamed of this all at least twice a day, causing thumps on your head by your boss and awkward silences from your friends. But you really can't help it. Thoughts just happen to walk into your mind and plant themselves, claiming your brain.
You wish to be part of the Galactic Justice Police for they get to travel across the solar system everyday but a dream is just a dream until you make something of it. So for now you are stuck working in the observatory.
It's not that you do not enjoy it. It is the biggest building on the entire planet and is made completely out of crystuminium. Oh how you love crystuminium and its glimmer and edge. The sky is reflected in broken fractals through the material. Almost glass, crystuminium is three hundred times stronger, ten times lighter and all the more attractive. Colours before crystuminium break into billions of shades. It is almost like the world is behind camera filter.
And tonight the sky burns in purple and black with the constellations of many forgotten gods hiding beneath Pluto's great clouds. Not the perfect night for stargazing, but the observatory's telescope is one of the very best spanning only a couple metres because of the excellent magnifying properties of crystuminium.
Another peak at Earth. And then you turn your dead eyes away and then let them fall back and close.
It's quite quiet here out in the edge if Pluto. The stars have stopped, it seems, and the observatory hushes you asleep underneath the shards of night that greet you from Earth. Your notebook lies empty, and a pen falls from your hand, carrying tomorrow's work with it.
The telescope is unhappy at looking at coffins. It shifts. Landing it's crystal eye on the meteor of T344- . Planes fly above.
