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SOLAR BODIES
BY M. KITCHELL


What did his body feel like?

The sun never came up that day. It was cold and the light would never come back. The sun was dead.

I found a map and traced the sun to the ocean.

So I walked, and walked, and sometimes ran. Eventually I got to the ocean. I saw the light at the bottom.

Envelope the water which was slowly turning to ice. I knew there was a good chance that if I dove in I would never surface again, stuck beneath sheets of opaque glass, an obsidian mirror that would reflect nothing but my own death.


Where was the last place he saw you?

I found the dead sun at the bottom of the ocean. It was dim, diffused by the water surrounding it, dead fish were stuck inside. With my hands I dug into the dead sun, pulling chunks from the mass in front of me. I wanted to find an entrance, a passage-way to let me to the center. At the center I would talk to whatever life the sun had left. If I could talk to the sun I knew he could tell me anything.

I gasped for air as I pulled.

The dead sun was molting, the lava of burning star diffused into my surroundings. If I were to stop moving I would be stuck, I would be forgotten.


How did you meet?

I found a website in the middle of the night. It belonged to someone I didn't know. There were streaming videos of a nude body in an empty room. The floor was tiled and the walls were ceramic. It looked like a shower but I could see no water.

The body didn't move for the three hours that I watched it. I wanted it to move, I needed it to. The body moved when I turned away, the body moved when I went to the bathroom. I know this because I taped a transparency to my computer monitor and used a pen to mark the edges of the body.

The audio feed hissed static. I wanted to tell the body a story.


How did he know you were who you said you were?

His body felt the dead sun, I wanted to bury myself inside of him.


What was his name?

I took screenshots of the body in the empty room and recorded the audio hiss for an hour. I released the audio as a tape, the screenshots I used as album art. I walked around the city selling copies for three dollars each. One man stopped me when he saw the cover.

"How did you find me."

I told him everything would be ok.



Where did you take him?

I finally found the entrance to the dead sun. I followed hallways until I reached the center. The life of the dead son was a minotaur, but the minotaur was not breathing.

How can I bring back the light.

The corpse of the minotaur spoke with a marbled thunder.

YOUR LIPS ON ICE CAN BREATHE WARMTH.

I asked the body again.

How can I bring back the light.

The body was starting to rot, and the sea snakes who had made their way through the porous openings in the lava of the dead sun's body swarmed its inside. FEEL HIS HAND.

I was choking for air.

I cannot breathe.

Yes you can.

I cannot breathe.

I reached my fingers into the center of the dead son, shaking snakes from my arms, ignoring bites and drops of blood. I grabbed his heart and couldn't feel a pulse.

I cannot breathe.


Where did you leave his body?

His body felt like glass, his insides cut me up. I wasn't sure what I was looking for so I rooted around until my fingers placed an unrecognizable mass. I pulled the mass out and realized I had found the new sun.


Why did you tell him you loved him before you killed him?

His name was Robert and I found him in a newsgroup. He was looking for someone to suicide with. With the sun gone I wanted to die. We died together but he couldn't come back as a ghost. I will live forever with the new sun inside of me, his sun. My body burns bright, at dawn I will float into the sky and tell everyone that there can be warmth once again.


Why was he recording an empty room?

The room wasn't empty, he was in it, nude. He would lay on the floors for hours at a time. He let me watch once. I watched more than once with the live feed, but one time he let me watch from inside the room, from behind the camera. If you watch the video closely, if you can get the feed at a high enough resolution, you can see that he cries while he lies on the floor. His body is cold, and this is why he cries. If you amplify the static, or even the recording of the static I released, you can hear his sobs.


Where did you leave his body?

The dead sun spit me out and thrust me to the surface, ice flailing behind me, gasping for my own air. The hole I escaped through closed as ice as soon as I had regained my footing. I could see the sun burn out below.


Where did you leave his body?

He didn't have a body, his body was the sun, and the sun is inside me now.

Where did you leave his body?

His body became the air as soon as I touched him. The air felt warm.

Where did you leave his body?

I buried him in the dead sun under the ocean. My new heat melted the icecaps for long enough to complete a second descent.

Where did you leave his body?

His body was thrown into the mounting waves of the ocean.


Where did you leave his body?

I left it where I found it.

Where did you leave his body?

I never found his body.


Where did you leave his body?

I took his body apart and used the remains to create new colors, filling a color-wheel between yellow and green.

Where did you leave his body?

I boiled his bones and molded them into a machine for flight.

Where did you leave his body?

But it melted when my new sun grew too warm.


Where did you leave his body?

His body is my body.

Why was he recording an empty room?

It was my room.

Why did you tell him you loved him before you killed him?

I have to tell myself these things sometimes.

Where did you leave his body?

Inside of my own.

Where did you take him?

He took me inside of him, I took him inside of me.


What was his name?

My name is.

How did he know you were who you said you were?

I trust myself.

How did you meet?

My mother gave birth to me on April 16th, 1978.

Where was the last place he saw you?

Inside of the burning sun.

What did his body feel like?

My body feels like the sun.