In 1959, an episode of The Twilight Zone titled “Time Enough at Last” aired. It ends with a man, alone in a dead world.
This man, surrounded by knowledge and isolation. A solitary paradise. In the last moments, this man, enveloped by books,
breaks his glasses. An ironic; infamous mishap. This act renders him unable to consume any of the knowledge around him.
Now, in isolation, the antithetical apex approaches us, the viewer. You are surrounded by knowledge. You try to read.
You are handed another pair of glasses you must put on. Glasses and glasses, pair after pair. Days pass. Your face is lenses.
The room you occupy, eventually metal and glass and nose pads snapping and breaking. The metal cuts you as you try to move.
The light has gone. The focus is much too rendered.
The lightbulb has been crushed by duplicating glass.
Luke writes poetry and short stories focused on queerness, feelings and the fantastical creatures found therein. His work is scheduled for release in upcoming publications of Plenitude Magazine and Cathexis Northwest.