FR
I wrote this story in 2019 when participating in a collective project with other bloggers, the theme of which was a picture by Christophe Kiciak entitled "A Space Oddity" in tribute to David Bowie. Naturally, Indochine's music and Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince came to mind as well as the violent punitive context of Jupiter's (Macron) minions. The title is a direct reference to an eponymous song by Indochine (in French). Please note, most of the original puns got lost in translation, but I did my best introducing new ones. Hope it does work for you anyway.
Transcript
Stellar castaway from the depths of time, surfing the Milky Way amidst gasses, dust, and white, blue, red, yellow, brown or black dwarf stars, his head still in the clouds and full of nebulae, riding his stark asteroid while aiming at the moon, the singular explorer got pulled in by Earth's gravity.
Snuffed out off orbit above the Étoile by some unfortunate rubber bullet shot from Jupiter's wrath, the starman saw a plethora of stars at noonday—stunning great neon yellow stars—and then... nothing! Supermassive black hole. He'd been pulling so hard on his comet, his lucky star turned pale and flew off to less bellicose climes.
A very long time ago—eons ago, when he was still a very young prince, the starman inherited the throne from his father. And he began to feel so lonely on his tiny little planet in the far outback of the universe. A planet so tiny and unimportant, it didn't even have a name. Just an alphanumeric identification code assigned by a Turkish astronomer, one day, after a long observation through his telescope.
Mainly busy at sweeping volcanoes to prevent the destruction of his asteroid, and uprooting baobabs so that they don't overrun it, this tireless routine weighed so heavy on him, he ended up brooding.
He brooded so much that one evening, on a pitch black night, from the rocky soil sprang up a sublime dark rose. And he loved her passionately to the moon and back.
But the sulphur-fed beauty enjoyed so much playing with fire, she blew his mind. She pulled the weeds over his eyes with a promise to get high up on cloud-nine.
But instead of a honeymoon, he got green cheese and resorted to moonlighting, baying at the Moon, attempting to pull out each of the four thorns of his inconsistent rose.
Since the Moon had waned off, he proceeded to count the stars in the heavens, shouting at her that he would eventually get her. Thus began his odyssey in search of the Moon and of the plurality that would put an end to his singularity.
But before he could land anything on Earth, he was brought down by a dazzling flash and was immediately taken into custody as there was more than met the eye.
They tried to get him to spill his guts, whereas he got the bullet in his eye (damned fools), and take the kitty out of the bag, banging the eardrums. So much for shooting in the dark for he also had turned stone-deaf. And then, anyway, on his planet, there were no cats nor fools. Only a shady rose he started regretting.
“If you love a flower which is one of its kind on the millions of stars in the sky, it is enough to just look at the stars and feel happy. You can say to yourself, ‘I know my flower is out there somewhere.’ But if a sheep eats the flower, all the stars will seem to darken.”
His words rang so earnestly and so in tune with his heart, so pure and innocent, he won over our entire planet. At least, those earthlings who still had a hint of humanity left within. That is to say, not many.
But enough to turn the tide, extinguish volcanoes, and uproot baobabs.
And he added, “But the eyes are blind. One must see with the heart.”
And thus, most inadvertently, by the way, the one-eyed blinded prince from faraway became king in the world of the blind.
© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.
