He said he could hear the music of the spheres, and that Pythagoras got it wrong. The music created by the movements of the sun, planets, and stars was not harmonious, but discordant and chaotic. He said people were affected by the unheard music – the vibrations could be felt. He said if you stand completely still, you can feel them buffeting your body.
I listened to him talk.
He had a pair of eclipse glasses and passed them from one hand to the other. He told me the total eclipse of the sun would be different. As the moon moved west to east to align with the sun, the music would then, and only then, achieve Pythagoras’s perfection. Those that could feel the vibrations would now hear the Universe murmuring its love.
He was excited, and agitated, to be in the path of totality. The moon will engulf a star many times its size and engulf the bruised people with the most perfect notes if they will only listen. His voice rose even as he began to cry. They must listen.
This, he said, is why we cannot look at it. We must hear it, but first we must feel the vibrations.
He ripped his glasses in half and sobbed.
Why won’t they listen?
This is a piece of fiction written for the Going Dark: Free Fiction for the Eclipse project. Eric Douglas was kind enough to let me participate. Other submissions can read at: http://www.booksbyeric.com/going-dark-free-fiction-eclipse/