the celestials

He looked at the other two. The atomist had his head in his hands. The authoress was still scribbling. He wondered how long they would be here. Was it not time to go yet? Was it not over? He knew it wasn’t. He shuddered. He knew a little more. There was something else. He hadn’t told the other two. He wondered how they would respond. But there was something else. And the secret was eating him up from inside. But he couldn’t let it affect him. Nothing affected them. They were The Three. Three was such a beautiful number. All good things came in threes. The land, the sky, the sea. The three dimensions, which they saw. And these three. Them. Us. They were the three. There were pieces on the board, pieces in the game. That were also paired in threes. And they were the best of them. Nothing affected them. He knew what the other two didnt. He knew that they had been human once. He saw it in the times. Why didn’t the authoress know? She who wrote all the stories. Why didn’t the atomist know? He who saw the composition of things. They were made from the same things humans were made of. So why. Why him. He had always been a little afraid, he had seen in the times. And he was afraid now. Because there they were. And here he was. It was odd. He sighed silently and looked down. It was all non linear. He felt his eyes had crust around them. He felt them droop. There was one other thing. He was most afraid of it. And because of it, he might even be suffering from the placebo effect. Suffering. Seemed like an overstatement but who knew. Maybe they could suffer. Even if they were unearthly, celestial creatures, maybe they could suffer. The long sleep was coming. There would be a long sleep. But he didn’t know if it was here, or if the mere thought of the cataclysmic cloud of drowsiness was causing him to feel tired. He looked at his siblings. He almost shook his head. He had to stop thinking of them as siblings. Though to him they were. To each other, the two of them had been lovers. They just didn’t remember. He looked at his siblings, and wondered why they didn’t feel it. He wasn’t thick headed enough to think that he was the only one with secrets. Surely, the two of them had some too. Surely, they each knew things he didn’t. He wondered why. Who was playing this intricate game. Information only as needed. But no, that wasn’t right. Did he need to know about the cloud of sleep? The long slumber. He shuddered, a thought had shaken his very core. What if he did need to know? What could he do about it? Was he supposed to do something about it? He wasn’t prepared. He was just the keeper, the watcher of time. He wasn’t a fighter. He wasn’t a piece. Not an important one, not like her. For the first time in eons, the time keeper was scared.