Above him was all of space, below him only earth.
“Arthur, hurry up,” called his mother. “Stop staring at nothing like that.”
“Where does the light go, mom?” asked the curious 8 years old, looking over at his mother. She was walking him home from school, but it was already dark enough that the street lights were coming on.
“Oh, what light, Arthur?”
He pointed back at the street light, having started walking along with his mother again. “From the lamp. Light comes out everywhere and goes… where does it go?”
“I don’t know. Nowhere. Into space or something I suppose. Nowhere.”
She took his hand and continued walking, pulling Arthur along with her.
Then—rustling in the bushes. A cough, and a clattering of something to the ground.
“Anywhere,” said a voice.
They both heard it. He slowed down and peered into the park, but she kept her pace, if anything pulling her son along closer to her.
“Anywhere it wants,” came the voice again, but Arthur and his mother were already gone.