Thom threw the stars, and billions of years ticked away, seeming to take forever. The universe spun around with its telltale click click click.
“Check them out.” Sam pointed at the dancers, but Thom’s focus was on the spinning stars.
“Have a drink at least.”
Thom took the glass and downed the fiery liquid. Some of the stars weren’t turning up so good. Wars broke out in certain systems. Disease and injustice spread.
Finally the universe came to a rest, and Thom hung his head.
Sam threw an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t worry, dude. There’s always the next universe.”
Daniel Ausema has a background in journalism and experiential education and is now a stay-at-home dad. His fiction and poetry have appeared in numerous publications, including Nemonymous, Fictitious Force, Raven Electrick, All Possible Worlds, and Reflection”s Edge. He lives in Colorado.