The Palimpsest Review - Volume 10

Palimpsest onLine!'s Professional Writers at Work

Return to Palimpsest onLine!
 

Sarah Etter: “Concaves”

Marissa Molina: "The Day I Wasn’t There"

Andrew Timberlake-Newell: "Smokie"

Anthony Kocur: "To the Edge"

David Kim: "Young and Perverted"

Ryan Morini: "B – Movie Enthusiast"

Joe Giachero: "Whatever Came First"

Meghan Elliott: "Sound"

Veronika L Daddona: "Driver" and "Lamentia"

Ronell Smith: "The 1988 Holiday Barbie"

Charles Howells: "Bandwagon Patriots"

Andrew Noll: "Ten Feet Behind J.F.K."

Sarah E. Smith: "Autumn Skies"

Daniel Debiec: "A Morning in Missoula" and "into the rain"

Ryan Melling: "Hand in Hand"

Andraleen Zelonis: "Let’s Play"

Kevin Cope: "House Guest"

Becky Liscusky: "I Like Dogs and Frogs" and "You know the pan’s hot"

Amber Shinskie: "Scent of a Cherry Cigar"

 

The Palimpsest Review and Palimpsest onLine! are publications of The Pennsylvania State University. The words and ideas contained within their pages are the property of their authors and cannot be used for any purposes without the authors' specific written consent.

Anthony Kocur – Berks

   To the Edge…

A race.
 A race to the Edge of the Universe. It was a competition that sparked immense rivalry and excitement in its participants. With this race, two Possibilities swirled with the benefits they would receive. The prize would be the dawning of a new universe, their very own customized world.
 The statement was true that rang in the minds of Possibilities: These were times ripe for creation.

The stars seemed to melt around Infint as its world hazed over with the dawning of a new daydream. Space wrapped its shapeless form. It had been quite some time that Infint had been swimming in the nothingness. Off alone, Infint found its mind exploring in wonder. Not a soul disturbed Infint except for the bitter glow of a dozen stars.
   Infint stared about in all directions. Black space. 
   Then it looked beyond the black space.
   More black space. And beyond that was more.
   Forever it stretched. What did it mean, though?
   I wonder, thought Infint.

“So what are you saying?”
   “I just thought it was interesting, felt like bringing it up.”
   “I’m not angry, rather intrigued.” Millenium rolled his blank eyes in his smooth white mask of a face.
   Infint’s body formlessly twinkled as it gazed through blank space. Before reality existed, as we knew it, there was a world of No-Time. In No-Time, space was vacant, stars sprinkled the heavens, and the voids were places of activity and thoughtful pondering. The second Possibility, known as Infint, shimmered, “When I look into the Universe, I don’t see any walls. No borders. I wonder if I’d keep gliding or would I bump into something.” His body radiated with mesmerized energy.
   Infint exemplified an odd specimen of life. A radiating orb of energy encompasses its body. Its form rippled with wavering light, spilling out of its own form. Often times, Infint lacked the ability to contain its body, seeming shapeless. It sloshed like water, literally adopting the shape of whatever it pleased. 
   “It’d be a long ways away. Hardly worth the trip. Eventually you’d smack into something.”
   “How long would it take?”
   “Beats me. But long. Very, very long,” replied the first Possibility, Millenium. His body was that of a face; and his face, his body. Often in space, he stuck out like chalk on a black board, giant white mask with blank eyes and a glistening shine. He could be associated with a tragedy/comedy mask. However, unlike those, his expression was neither comedy nor tragedy. It simply was “being.” From his mask body, trailing for miles, large scarlet ribbons streamed in black space, licking the stars.
   “What if…could you pass me some space to play with? Think. What if, just say, what if you never hit a wall?” Millenium gripped spatial matter and tossed it towards Infint. His eye spaces widened in mild annoyance as Infint juggled the matter about like a toddler.
   Millenium’s porcelain visage smeared, “Never hit a wall. That’s preposterous. Inevitably, you’d bump into something.”
   “How are you so sure?” Infint’s shapeless body toiled.
   “Trust me,” came the ancient voice from unmoving lips.
   “Have you ever bumped into a wall or hit a border?”
   “No. Not yet.”
   “Well then, how do you know one exists? Often times you sleep in voids, you don’t travel much, so how can you be so sure?”
   “Because eventually boundaries will form. Besides, I never flew far enough away to bump into a wall. I don’t intend to.”
   “So you have no physical evidence?”
   “No…but look Infint, you’d eventually hit something!”
   “Ah ha! No physical evidence.”
   “Oh now, don’t get all uppity on me. Enough with the wall!”
   “I should explore.”
   “Go waste your time. I don’t know how long it’d take to reach the Edge. Could take Millennia.” A tingling snicker smeared his cheeks.
   Infint paused, sipped some space, “The Edge of the Universe, eh? Who knows? There could be or there couldn’t be.”
   “Enough!”
   “Alright. I just think it’s an interesting…possibility.”
   Millenium rose up on his scarlet cloth ribbons, abstract imitations for legs. His white face presented an extreme contrast that made Infint’s body twinge. “We’ll settle this.”
   “What?”
   “I have a little proposition for you.” One side of Millenium’s lips forked upwards, “You want to explore? You want to disagree with me? Well, here’s the deal.”
   “I just wondered how you were so sure.”
   “We’ll have a little race. A race to the Edge of the Universe. No matter who wins, my point will be proven.”
   “But…”
   “Wait,” Millenium’s voice rose in competitive jousting, “there will be a catch, a little reward. Whoever touches the Edge first would get to design their own exclusive universe. A world of their own.”
   “That sounds great. A healthy competition never hurt. Alright, you have me excited. Are there any rules?”
   “No, just strive to touch the Edge. No matter the inner, my point will be proven. Only difference between us will be that I’ll get a little bonus.”
   “You’re on. After all, these are times ripe for creation.”

With the small explosion of light from an ageless star, two Possibilities darted off as if to outrun time. They had just met in a region called the Core. Often the Core provided a good locale to discuss…to think. The Core, this time, was where the great race began, a single point that spawned an attempt to uncover the Edge.

Millenium raced at an ungodly speed, eagerly attempting to disprove Infint and its bizarre talk. His ribbons trailed behind him, rippling in the windless world. His mind trailed off, lost in the race, imagining all the greatness he would create with his new universe.
   The ground would be flat. Great trees would sprout to the heavens, tickling the blue sky. Their leaves and branches would run together and act as an overhang blanketing the world. Spears of sunlight would break through the limbs of the trees to illuminate his world’s denizens. A dreamy fog could haze the atmosphere of his city; a fog when mixed with sunlight would be hauntingly surreal. The beauty…
   Millenium’s porcelain face grinned a toothless, smooth-lipped smile. His world would be remarkable and Infint wouldn’t take that opportunity away from him to create it. Although a friendly competition, Millenium savored the essence of winning and reaping all of its benefits.

Its wild, churning energy flew through space as if frictionless. Infint couldn’t contain itself. The very prospect of a race to win the prize of all prizes. The right to make, from your very heart and soul, your own universe. Its body in full-motion, caught in the momentum, Infint, too, drifted into its imagination.
   A multicolored world, never a constant blue, nor a static red. The layout of the land could rise, roll, or rest; a truly versatile terrain. Great cities would mix with nature, forming societies for all walks of life. Some inhabitants would climb trees, others would live in them, and others would simply observe them. Then others would be completely removed from the ground; their lives spent above. Light would ripple from all directions radiating warmth and beauty of all kinds. The magic…
   If Infint won, its world would break the boundaries for all other worlds. It longed to have its creation as a source of inspiration, a genuine invention from its essence.

His fantasizing collapsed into itself, pushed away by returning reality. Millenium, shaken from his racing daze, blinked away any dust from the borders that formed his eyes. His ribbons trailed for miles behind his face/body.
   Welcome.
   It painted his mind. What was it?
   His body tilted so his face could study Infint who streamed above him in the distance. Could it have been Infint? Had the race become that competitive for mind warping? Would the foolish Possibility try to sway Millenium with its meager telekinesis?
   But it didn’t feel like Infint.
   How are you?
   Millenium didn’t think to answer. No, this wasn’t Infint. But…rather his goal. Could it be? Was it really?
   The end of Edge.
   He couldn’t believe it! The Edge had spoken to him!! He would soon touch the very tip of the world. A pioneer, no other Possibility had ever made contact with it before. The haunting whisper had confirmed it, the Edge was welcoming. Had Infint heard the chilling noise as well? Millenium doubted it: this was a message for him alone, an echo only he had the right to hear.

His mind arched. He would be victorious, his new universe ready to be made. He could taste the berry air and experience the world under his ribbons. Another glance to Infint. He not only wanted to win, but to rub it in.
   Millenium’s body rocketed into vicious velocity. He skimmed by Infint, leaving the Possibility aghast. What was it thinking? How foolish did it feel now?
 “I’ve won!” Millenium trumpeted victoriously.
 Infint’s formless shape twisted, trying to catch up. 
 Welcome, echoed the haunting call of the Edge. Matter materialized slowly, as if on a different plane of existence. 
 And then before Millenium knew it, he had touched, a rough translucent wall. His ribbons stroked the wall, and he pressed his face against it. “The Edge, I never believed I could be so overwhelmed.”
 Gazing back at Infint, the little Possibility would close on the wall in a few moments but be as far as the winner. The wall began to turn more solid as if matter streamed inwards. It felt hard. Cold.
 Millenium’s eye twitched. Two more seconds.
 Millenium was about to shout its victory, but his words vanished. Then something happened that Possibility never could have predicted.
 What did it mean? How could it be?
 Infint never stopped. Its form skidded by as if the Edge never existed. Millenium’s face desaturated, the very white drained from his body. Infint faded into the distance, an enigmatic smear.
 Infint was gone, and with its passage, the Universe never had time to catch up.