The Universe




The Universe lives. It feels every thing from the blackest of dark matter to the smallest speck of mold. Life is life. It changes and stretches and morphs dependent only on the stimulus around. The range is thin but the range of living things to fit with the billions of niches can run into the infinite. Creatures huge and small. Enormous and microscopic. Sentient and not. Aware of their soul and just fodder for a conception equation. Offspring. Children. Parental responsibility. The very nature of existence is male female. Fitting and holding. The ying sheltering the yang. The man and woman.

Nothing is ever wasted. Garbage thrown out is fuel in somewhere else. The universe is patient. Waiting. The motions that set it off a mystery. The universe is a Rube Goldberg machine of nonsensical accidents. A pinball machine with no prongs to hit the ball or have any control.

Time is an infinite loop. One end is another beginning. An end doesn’t even have to be noticed for trillions of years. But the clump of ice strewn out from one explosion will become involved with something eventually. Time is on the side of happenstance.


Author: Bryan Aiello

I call NYC home and wish the subway went everywhere and Times Square didn't suck. I saw John Turturro once. Maybe it was him. He was wearing a yellow shirt and smiled at me like he knew I knew. I am an Army vet who writes. I like characters who want more then they deserve. I like genre fiction. I love space. I love paladins. One day I might write a paladin in space story. Just you wait. The university of South Florida spit me out with a degree in creative writing and I find myself questioning the sanity of going to a school that advertises a fake beach on its brochure ever since. I intuit grammar. I Got married in 2012 We had twins in 2015. I do a lot of cooking and dog walking and ranting about the unfairness of sentience. You can follow me on Twitter: @bryaiello Wattpad: My Subreddit: My Reddit profile: Like my work? Become a patron at:

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