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And when I opened my eyes, the whole of the night sky was white-washed—even one hundred and five miles wasn’t enough to keep the lights of metropolitan Columbus from blocking out the stars. In my drunkenness, there lying by the lakeside, I perceived the three-dimensionality of space, and at first, I was awestruck by that vision, but then one of the stars started shooting, as the astronomers had predicted, and with my mouth still wide open, I realized that the shooting star was just a moth, and not the dust of a comet. The three-dimensional vision I’d perceived an illusion, the picture dissolved, and there I was again basking in the two-dimensional darkness that even one hundred and five miles couldn’t make black.
0
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 11:22 PM UTC
Whitewashed Meteors
And when I opened my eyes, the whole of the night sky was white-washed—even one hundred and five miles wasn’t enough to keep the lights of metropolitan Columbus from blocking out the stars. In my drunkenness, there lying by the lakeside, I perceived the three-dimensionality of space, and at first, I was awestruck by that vision, but then one of the stars started shooting, as the astronomers had predicted, and with my mouth still wide open, I realized that the shooting star was just a moth, and not the dust of a comet. The three-dimensional vision I’d perceived an illusion, the picture dissolved, and there I was again basking in the two-dimensional darkness that even one hundred and five miles couldn’t make black.
jimmy-king
Written by
American
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 11:22 PM UTC
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