Selfies

“Do you ever get tired of posing for selfies?” I asked the Creative Force of the Universe (CFU for short).

“Nah, I don’t mind selfies,” she answered, fluffing up some passing clouds as if she were gathering them for a pose. “But I struggle with the autographs. What can I possibly write that would make any difference? It’s all been said before.”

I shrugged. “Just tell people what they want to hear. Wish them well. That sort of thing.”

CFU shook her head. “I can’t. I feel this pressure to be honest.”

“And scare the poop out of them? Make them angry and defensive? Good plan.”

I gazed out the window, hoping CFU wasn’t planning to be honest with me anytime soon.

“Hey, the truth is more complex than that. Why do you always assume the worst?” she asked.

“It might be complex, but there are some hard realities that a lot of people, including me, don’t want to face. It’s the suffering and our role in all the troubles. And then, sometimes, when I work up the courage to tell the truth, it’s misunderstood or twisted and used against me.”

“I see your point,” CFU nodded. “That happens to me, too. It’s awful. And that’s exactly why I’m hesitant to do autographs.”

 Another silence ensued.

“What are you doing at midnight?” she finally asked.

“Sleeping,” I answered in a cool voice.

It sounded like she was asking me out. We’ve dated off and on. It’s never gone well, but we keep trying.

“Too bad,” she said. “It’s going to be a clear night if you happen to be awake. I’ll be stargazing on the deck.

Almost despite myself, I slipped out at midnight and stared up into the fiery blanket of infinity.

“Hello, little consciousness!” CFU greeted me joyfully, throwing succulent September air around my shoulders. “I dressed up in case you decided to join me. We could take some selfies if you have the right equipment.”

“Well, I don’t,” I shrugged as I settled in. “My lenses are all cracked and distorted.”  

“Who cares?” she exclaimed, flinging her arms so wide they sent a few stars tumbling. “I’ll remember this night forever.”

“Oh, good grief,” I laughed, tickled as hell. “Sometimes your exuberance is a little over the top.”

“I know,” she sighed dramatically. “Once in a while, the Northern Lights almost do me in.”