The Writer’s Corner features poetry, essays, short stories, satire and various fiction and non-fiction from SCAD Atlanta students. To submit your own work for the Writer’s Corner, email features@scadconnector.com.
‘Barker’ by Catalina Cano
“When Laika, abandoned in space, barks
the lights in the hovels come on, one by one.”
Olli Heikkonen
And when Laika allowed her eyes to open, she released a heavy sigh, triggering neighbouring forming galaxies to spiral and curl like snails to the vigor of her breath into the cosmic immensity.
“Laika, look,” said the Being.
Laika — bemused by the halcyon grasp of the Being — looked down at the legs of the towering figure and saw how each step It took caused a ring of ripples, as if stepping on puddles.
“Look.”
Lifting her head, Laika observed a perfect sphere. The warmth it radiated reminded her of a distant memory of sunbathing on sidewalks, left undisturbed by all the surrounding business. The light did not hurt her eyes, and if she were to squint and focus for a while longer, she would see the sphere’s core, like a heart beating its star into existence.
“Was this my doing?” Laika asked.
The Being, drawing from faraway blinking lights, grew a third arm which It stretched towards three resting galaxies. “Those were too,” It said. “You even gave each a sun. Most forget about that on their first try. But you are clever, Laika.”
“I thought it was only a dream,” said Laika.
“That’s how it begins.”
“Show me how it happened.”
The Being, who had been carrying Laika all along, released her from Its arms. Initially afraid of drifting away, Laika tried jumping back into her carrier’s arms but soon discovered her paws could go where she pleased, leaving rings of ripples with every step. No longer hesitant, Laika ran in front of the Being and gave It a greeting stretch, feeling relief swarm her body from what felt like a long nap in the same position. From her chest, an iridescent flower bloomed and soon curious of her own abilities, she closed her eyes and imagined it reaching the Being. Laika opened her eyes back up to the Being bringing the flower to its kaleidoscopic face, Its deep inhale turning the flower into a prismatic nothingness as it vanished into the Being’s nostrils.
“This is my first flower,” said the Being. “It will forever be special, thank you.”
“How? Aren’t you eternal?” asked Laika.
“I am. And yet every moment is still the first one,” said the Being. “Walk with me.”
Jumping into galaxies felt like jumping into deep lagoons, the resurfacing a resemblance of the first breath of air often forgotten at the moment of birth. In her sleep, Laika had dreamt existence alive — a synaptic pulse in the brain of a once-stray-dog from a planet still unfulfilled. This corner of the universe, now overflowing with life, was all her doing.
“Those are your home planets now,” said the Being. “In them you will find many others like you.”
“And they can be happy now?”
“Yes. And so can you.”
Laika observed how the Being summoned two passing shooting stars, placed them in the center of the three sister galaxies, and motioned her to take a seat.
“You’re thinking of them, aren’t you?” asked the Being.
“I still don’t understand.”
“Neither do We,” said the Being. “Strange creatures, they are.”
“The trip was scary,” said Laika.
“And the heat, did it scare you?”
“Yes, it gave me quite a fright,” said Laika.
“But it didn’t last forever, did it?”
“But it didn’t last forever.”
Somewhere in Laika’s planet of origin a young girl looks to the nightsky on the emptied parking lot of an outlet mall. She observes a distant blinking light and when it vanishes, she sticks a flyer to a lighting pole. It reads:
LOST DOG
“LAIKA”
Last seen: ORBITING EARTH IN A SOVIET SHIP
If seen please do not return. Tell her we miss her. Tell her we’re sorry.