Circe's Comet Cometh

It was 7:00 at night. 

A Friday. A long-awaited end to another work week, promising a brief respite before the cycle starts anew. 

Oh, and the night of Circe’s Comet.

Jared Dawson was leaning against a tree, the moonlight contrasting against his black-and-grey letterman’s jacket. His eyelids were getting annoyingly heavy, barely staying open as he checked his smartwatch. 

About ten yards ahead of him, the bonfire was blazing as a couple of dozen UPenn students danced to Paramoure with White Claws in their hands. Twenty-one-year-old Caroline Parker was the most enthusiastic among these youths, holding three sparklers as she spun wildly through the field. The silly sight brought a smile to Jared’s face and raised his dim spirit.

On the other side of the bonfire, Ben Wagner texted frantically as a bead of sweat snuck down his forehead. The recipient of his irritating instant messages had been ghosting him for the entire week and hanging out at the bonfire had done nothing to temper Ben’s frustrations. After his sixth unanswered text, the second-year student dropped to the ground, staring at his phone and desperately hoping for even a blinking set of dots. Anything to show she still gave a damn.

“She needs space, man.”

Ben looked up, finding a 5’6” figure in a black-and-yellow striped dress with hands holding burnt-out sparklers, wrists curved at her waist, and staring him down with discerning daggers. His face reddened slightly as Caroline held out her hand. With a second’s hesitation, he accepted it.

Switching her scowl to a smile, Caroline pinched both of Ben’s cheeks despite his non-verbal protests. “Dude, we’re about to watch a fucking hundred-year-old comet, maybe try acting like someone didn’t just cut up your puppy and feed it to you?”

“With that kind of mental image, I already feel like a billion bucks,” Ben said without an infinitesimal of sincerity.

Caroline started to roll her eyes but promptly composed herself. “Look, when you see the ‘cosmic’ shit we’re gonna see tonight, it reminds you how small and… meaningless everything is.”

“You’re really bad at this, you know that?” That earned Ben a slap on the shoulder.

“My point is that against the majesty of a giant rock hurdling through space, a spat with your girlfriend is just…, not that big a deal or…. something. You’re right, I’m just making this worse,” Caroline trailed off as she backed up and rejoined the festivities, leaving a still-dejected Ben to consider doing the same.

Having caught a glimpse of the conversation from his side of the celebration, Jared deduced that whatever his friends were talking about, it wasn’t something he was particularly in the mood to hear. So, he shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the bonfire.

“Jared!” Caroline rushed over with an aggressive bear hug, catching him off guard but not genuinely surprising him.

“Never change, Carol,” Jared said with a rascally grin. 

At that, the hug ended and Jared found himself facing familiar daggers. “Shorten my name again and I’ll wish for a fragment of the comet to land on your house.”

He snickered. “I live in a dorm, you know.”

“Your parent’s house, then,” Caroline clarified. 

Jared held a pointed finger at her nose. “That’s collateral damage,” he says before pausing to think. “Or is guilt-by-association-”

“Don’t hurt your brain, man. Just remember it always-”

“Caroline, my sunshine,” he answered in a sudden sing-song tone that made her begrudgingly laugh. 

“I can see it, guys!” a woman screamed, capturing the attention of Jared, Caroline, and everyone around them. “It’s here, it’s beautiful!”

“What?” said Caroline.

Sure enough, high above the partying people, blazing a brilliant and fiery trail in the sky, was Circe’s Comet. Cheers erupted as cellphones were pulled out and pictures snapped. One particularly inebriated man even started weeping uncontrollably. A few of the couples began making out. 

Ben stared up, returning to his feet and returning his phone to his pocket. Glancing away for a second, he spots Caroline and Jared a few feet away. The latter looked like he had just finished another joint, while the former looked like a Karen trying to return a pair of unwanted boots. “Cosmic shit,” he said to himself. 

Jared saw Ben approaching out of the corner of his eye. Caroline didn’t notice.

“You holding?” Ben asked.

“That was one time, dude,” Jared said to defend his honor.

“It’s early,” Caroline said.

“What,” the two men beside her replied in unison.

Caroline pulled out her phone, frantically typing and scrolling. Jared and Ben looked at each other, exchanging raised eyebrows and shrugged shoulders. Everyone else was still looking up.

Suddenly, Caroline beckoned them to look at her phone. They complied and huddled close to her. “We were supposed to see the comet at 8.”

“Okay, its early,” Jared said. “Lucky us.”

“Sure,” replied Caroline, though with little commitment.

“I guess comet science isn’t rocket science,” Ben snarked, before pausing for laughter that did not come.

“Whatever, it’s proba-” Caroline terminated her thought as stared up at the celestial object, unblinking.

Jared waved his hand in front of her face, but she said nothing. Ben poked her shoulder, a long-established pet peeve of hers, and got the same response. Finally, Jared asked “Dude, what’s the malfunction?”

“Is it just me?” she finally said as she raised her finger to the sky, “Or… is it..”

Curious, Jared and Ben followed her eyeline, once again glimpsing Circe’s Comet soar through the sky. It was bright white in its center surrounded by a layer of crimson red. Its tail was long and thin, yet gradually widening at its end. Though, it was not growing as fast its head.

A fact Ben caught on to. “Is it supposed to get bigger?”

Around them, the revelry and looks of wonder started to shift. Wide smiles flattened out, wild dancing ground to a halt, and the couples held each other a little tighter. The bonfire rattled, seeming on the verge of burning out before suddenly reasserting itself in alternating flashes of orange and purple. Only Jared seemed to notice the confusing conflagtion, which triggered a shiver in his spine.

Just then, Caroline finally registered Ben’s question. “It only looks like its getting bigger… when its getting closer.”

Jared considered her response for a minute, quickly grasping the implications but wanting to do anything other than say it out loud.

Ben had no such restraint. “How close is it gonna get?”

Caroline had no answer, but all they needed to do was look up. The widening tail had expanded like a hand fan, as the head kept expanding. The crimson outer shell brightened as it violently mutated to a sickly green then an overwhelming purple. On the ground, the irreverent partiers of mere minutes ago ceased to exist, succeeded by a collection of shuddering souls broken and paralyzed by an inescapable fate.

Circe’s Comet was coming straight for them.