The Comet

In the pre-dawn, the Comet stood on the street corner as if in a daze. His enveloping coma illuminating both him and his immediate surroundings with a pale silver-grey glow. He flinched slightly as a car rushed past, its electronic warble doppler-shifting as it sped up the street. Several pairs of ghostly eyes within his coma narrowed as they tracked the vehicle until it disappeared from sight. And then, from over the distant hill behind the alley between the bakery and the hairdressers, the sun rose.

The Comet squinted in the morning light, his coma stretching out into an irridescent tail pointing away from the sun. And all throughout it, the phantoms screamed white noise until the tail faded in the sun.

But I could still see it.