In Transit (for Arthur Eddington) by Neil Gaiman

1. To find the many in the one he sweated under foreign skies to see the stars behind the sun. So space and time were now undone reality was undisguised. We found the many in the one. There is no photograph, not one, that shows the mind behind the eyes. He saw the stars behind the sun. Not with a sword, or knife, or gun, a simple picture severed ties. He found the many in the one. Light bends around us. So we run, as gravity reclassifies the stars we saw behind the sun. To see the world beyond the skies, to know the mind behind the eyes, To find the many in the one he showed us stars behind the sun. 2. Unfucked, or anyway retiring, in the awkward sense. Retirement will never be an option. The gruff gentleman with the cap who understands what the numbers mean remembers a bicycle ride when he was younger. The smoke of the cigarettes he does not smoke kicks at his lungs mixing with the buzz of the booze he doesn’t ever drink a convivial pint after the ride into the country gave him such a thirst. And afterwards they lay on their back in the stubble staring up at the stars. Together. All the stars Countable as the words in a Bible, countable as the hairs on his friend’s head, all accountable, and that is why they never truly touched. The shadow of prison or disgrace perhaps moving between them like the shadow of an eclipse. And, in another life, at another time, to see the stars behind the sun, he takes his photographs fighting the cloud cover. Becoming the thing that happened in Principe. when he proved that the German was right, that light had weight, half a year after the Armistice. A populariser, but not courting popularity. Somewhen a boy is counting stars. Somewhen a man is photographing light. Somewhen his finger strokes the stubble on another’s cheek, and for a moment everything is relative. Twitter：@camelliayang Website: https://www.camelliayang.com/ Sign up for Chiwi Journal monthly newsletter.

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