KMS Blog

Sometimes I create parts of stories that simply don't fit.  Here's something pulled recently when I was editing...

Until he had been dropped off at the school, Darnell had never in his life been out of Philadelphia except for occasional field trips and other day excursions to the shore.  At fourteen years of age the night sky for him was one of little wonder; a washed out version of its daytime self where a half-dozen stars, easily overlooked, twinkled meekly through the canopy of light. Now in the seclusion of a small Vermont village and far from the comforting lights of the city, he felt just how vast the world could actually be.  On his first day, Darnell had gone through Mount Claire’s orientation, been assigned a room, and settled in.  But he had little in common with the other students and so decided to wander outside to be alone.  He pushed through the front door of the dormitory, which led to a small concrete pad.  The door closed and Darnell stood overlooking the gentle curve of a valley whose shadows rose, uninterrupted, to meet the shadows of the sky.  Behind him a single bulb burned, while just beyond its reach darkness pressed in, as if all the night were gathered there.  Over his head two thousand stars twisted and boiled, set afire in the stillness of the New England night.  They were violent, active things whose motion broke their colors into a thousand writhing fractals overhead.  Darnell turned back towards the embrace of the light bulb, and quickly rushed back inside.