pattern Soma I floated in the warm blue-lit pool as whatever noise passed for enjoyable music these days blared across frosty -cold cement and rows of empty hotel lounge chairs. Up above me, no discernible pattern of history stretched across the mantle of night. It was laid inky black and bare, stars clouded by the fervor of city lights and hazy human pollution. I wondered if this would be the future my people's children would know. No night sky. No milky way. No endless swirl of cosmic dust that formed into stories and legends and myth. Saltwater mingled with chlorine. A flicker of red light and green flickered across the dark, some metal container carrying a few hundred souls. I felt the end of an era; sad fate. A disconnect from the rhythm of all things. Will they wander, empty, not knowing what it is they miss? 240127 what's it to you? who go blather from