The world was too large, full of vast points of distance, so Sal and Crystal went away for a weekend to their own planet, undiscovered and fairly close. It was small and when they lay down together, her head rested on his shoulder and their legs wrapped completely around the orb. At the end point their feet nestled on top of each other.
When they made love on it, Crystal said, she felt a earthquake.
“Shut up,” Sal said. “Planet-quake! Don’t talk about that other place. This is a tiny planet that I’d like to stay on it forever. It has everything we need.”
“You may not see it, but I’m sure we’re lying in it.”
“We can eat if we want—there’s a restaurant right around the bend. More importantly is that we can talk…feel good. There is so much to feel bad about on earth, I wish I didn’t have to return there.”
“We have to go back at some point.”
“Yes. That’s the gravity of it.”
“Can we dance first?”
They stood up and wobbled as if rising from an all-day barstool. They made bad-ass faces, and laughed until the weight of the affair pushed their planet back into the earth’s atmosphere. There was a burst of fire, and their pieces fell mostly in the ocean, but some fell into houses on the Eastern seaboard and many of the larger chunks were found spread all over Oklahoma, Louisiana and Texas.
Timothy Gager is the author of eight books of poetry and fiction. Over 250 pieces of his work have been published on-line or in print. He lives on www.timothygager.com