Bird Storm

Thundercracker pounds on Acid Storm’s door. Even when he strains to hear, there’s no response. “Acid Storm! Are you in there?”

Something clatters faintly inside, followed by a softer sound that might be a curse. Thundercracker thumps harder with the side of his fist and the door rattles in its frame, old bearings and older metal. Their ship was made relatively recently in the war’s history, which is to say it’s a rickety rustbucket held together with glue and hope, and should’ve been put out of its misery long ago.

“Hurry up, already,” Thundercracker says, loud enough to carry, “Slipstream’s gonna make us scrub the engine filters if we’re late for patrol.”

There’s another clatter. This time, the curse is louder. Acid Storm’s voice comes muffled through the door. “I’m putting my face on!”

.·:*°you taught me the courage

of stars before you left

how light carries on endlessly

even after death

with shortness of breath

i’ll explain the infinite

how rare and beautiful it truly is