In the oceans dark the Mantas glide up the rays from our lights.
Beams filled with tiny plankton, shrimp and crab hatchlings. The
seawater is filled with white sparks of life and the Mantas glide
through, sifting the water like giant devils. I feel a shiver as my
imagination recoils from itself. What if when we die, our sparks
float in space. They will have no mass to hold the Earth. The Earth
will travel as it does and we will watch it go. We will see all the
tiny loosened sparks from farm harvests and blooded stock yards,
from Emergency Rooms and Third World famine. They unspool
from the Earth in long sparkling ribbons, beautiful really. And far
into the darkness we see the white ribs and wide open door of
the Mantas, as we go into the light.
