Ejection
by C. E. Gee
Consciousness grew slowly. As awareness came, he gathered his senses.
But it seemed there was nothing to sense. He saw nothing but
darkness. He heard nothing but silence. Tactilely, he felt nothing. He
tried to remember where he was and why he was there.
Only vaguely, in his mind’s eye, he recalled a battle, flames, an
ejection. Maybe he was a pilot? It pleased him, thinking he was a pilot
of the sky.
Was he burned? Tentatively, cautiously, he moved a bit. No pain.
Moving was difficult. He was bound in fabric -- bedding perhaps? He speculated he was in a hospital.
Then he felt something.
Maybe halfway down the length of his body was a swelling. It felt good. It was growing.
It felt even better when he rubbed the swelling against the fabric.
The swelling grew. The rubbing became thrusting.
Forcefully, frantically, he thrust with power and vigor. It felt
good. As he became aware of his own power, he was surprised at the
strength of it. That awareness spurred ever more potent thrusts.
Then it came.
From deep within him, great paroxysms of shuddering and rendering.
And the very fabric of space itself split. And from within that split came a blazing beam of light.
The light was from stars. And stars spewed outward from the split.
In unimaginable numbers, globbed together in spurts, the stars
coalesced into galaxies. And the galaxies expanded outward, forming a
universe; the first universe in what would become an infinite
multiverse.
Eventually, the spurting stopped. The split in the fabric of space closed.
He looked upon what he had wrought, saw that it was good.
He decided to give what he done a name. He foresaw that he would
pass that name along to his many children, for he knew he would be a
father, and he knew he would have many houses. He would call what he
done The Big Bang. He was amused.
One should always begin with a joke.
© 2014, 2018 C. E. Gee
C.E. Gee aka Chuck misspent his youth at backwater locales within
Oregon and Alaska.
Chuck later answered many callings: logger, factory worker, meat
packer, Vietnam war draftee infantryman (1968), telecommunications
technician, volunteer fireman and EMT, light show roady, farmer,
businessperson.
Retired from the electronics industry and also a disabled
veteran, Chuck now writes Science Fiction.
His blog is at https://kinzuakid.blogspot.com
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