"I See the Light"
by Anthony J. Rapino
At first there is nothing.
Something pushes me, and I push back.
It forms in the dark like bits of illuminated dust floating past a window. I see each speck burst into being like electric awakening.
Against this glowing knowledge are my true surroundings: obscuring pitch compared to the bright dust. As the hallucination of light fades, my eyes refocus and begin to define objects moving against the sky.
They drift as the dust.
They catch light—though fainter—as the dust.
And I know they hold electricity.
On cue a humble buzzing enters my perception, as if an unknown child turned up the volume of a radio, the broadcast of which I do not comprehend.
Again things come clearer, and I see the silhouette of power lines. A voice says something from far away and I comply. I hand over the source of a burning, red light. Hair on my neck pricks up as female breath tickles my ear and a pungent scent tickles my nose. In the dark she conjures new electricity.
The joint is again in my hand, and I hit it.
I hold it.
I exhale, pushing.
I say, “At first there was nothing.”
The lines—far above my eyes, hidden in darkness—seem dead. Next to me power surges. I turn and squeeze close to the source.
“Now there’s life.”
We two nameless create as blackness pushes against us.
We push back.