Abhors a Vacuum

by avery selk

Looking up into the sky, Jarred reached a hand out towards the stars. The boy lay on his side, back to the house. His cheek was pressed against the grass, undoubtedly leaving a stain. Jarred just laid there miserably, too tired to care. None of tonight’s events were foreign to him. His father cleaned the house every Friday, leaving his eight sons to roam the yard. Jarred would always try to get as close to the river as possible without leaving the family property. He liked to let the sound of the current drown out any rumblings from the house. Still, it wasn’t enough.

During the worst nights, Jarred would curl up into a ball—gaze fixed upon the sky—and pretend he was a star. Warmer than any other in the vast expanse above him. But before he could completely drift off, a breeze would always rush by, suddenly awakening him to the cold air. Cold existed everywhere, even in a place as beautiful as the sky. At least up there, he thought to himself, there could be quiet. Maybe then he could rest. He’d give up breath for the comfort of his ears. He’d give it all up for some rest. Just a bit.

If only Jarred were a star. Then he too could be warm, no matter the temperature around him. The idea of it made him smile.