A man fell in love with the Sun. Buoyant with this love, he rose above the ground, muscles and bones straining against gravity. Furious with passion, the man couldn’t listen to the worries of his family and friends and charred his earthly relationships as he propelled himself towards his beloved Sun.
As he meteored towards it, heat engulfed his body, singeing away hair and skin and lighting his very bones on fire. The Sun, unable to give love to the man in other way, propelled two balls of light towards him. He caught these energetic offerings: two babies red and raw with wormhole mouths and elemental cries. The collision sent the three of them caterwauling from the sky, all limbs and screams and bones held together by momentum as they split through the layers of space dust and atmosphere, lacerated by clouds. Without any earthly relations to catch them, they hit the Earth, ripping through its folds. The man protected the babies with his scalded body as thorns and roots and stones pierced through him, weeping through the cracks and chinks to molten rock and heat and landing, shredded and destroyed, in Hell.
The two children, Oscar and Ella, were left parentless and swaddled in flames. As they grew into adulthood, Ella was terrified her whole life would be consumed by the smouldering remains of their father’s life and in the intensity of her fear became pregnant. She needed to escape. Her brother, caramelized into dark indulgence, couldn’t be convinced to leave his fiery home and was lost to the brimstone and ashes. Ella fought her way up, clinging to the cracks of hell and heaving herself through the Earth, huge and fierce with the child she was carrying. She broke through the surface of the soil to the ocean floor where, exhausted, she gave birth to a son, Tam. All her strength drained by the journey, she convinced herself she could make a life for her child from inky silence and salt water. But the pressure of the deep sea made it nearly impossible for her to move.
Incubated in the chill waters of the under ocean, Tam dreamt of the stars. In the flashes of fish scales he saw galaxies and universes, until greedy with longing he snatched a fish from the waters for his own amusement. Exultant in his new plaything, he in turn baited and petted her, drenching her in twisted affection. In the splatter of their relations, a child, Miranda, was created. Panicked that the weight of this responsibility would laden his plans to reach the stars, Tam was imbued with an anxious delirium that rocketed him through the ocean depths and up into space. However, the plunge in atmospheric pressure as he rose fractured his body, exploding him into stardust.
Miranda was lullabied by sea whispers, the sand burying and uncovering and reburying secrets and half stories. Floating between tidal waters, she let the salt dry on her cheeks and played peek a boo with clouds. At 19, her body buoyant with pregnancy, she stroked towards the shore, determined her child would be born a child of the Earth.
(Prelude by Cera Maree Brown)