He slips on his worn leather boots before swinging his Colt 45 over his toned shoulder.
His muscles have this move memorized considering it’s his morning routine.
Orion opens his eyes as the sun peaks over the galaxy like a mountain range,
Snow capped sunrises only gods can witness.
He’s known as a hunter around these parts.
The other constellations discuss his wandering and destructive behavior under hushed whispers.
His gun-shots are heard from light years away like lightening striking previously untouched earth and severing it into clean cut cracks.
He is always alone.
The other constellations never follow him, though they’re intrigued.
Fear keeps them from allowing their desires to approach Orion manifest.
He is dangerous, after all.
But there is one constellation who views him just a bit… differently.
He is not a hunter,
Only hunted, she believes.
He is not dangerous,
She on the other hand is radiant and well-shaped like a crescent moon hanging perfectly in a coal black sky.
She is, Cassiopeia.
And she is everything.
She breathes out crystal cut stars like it’s constantly winter and breath is white and visible.
She wears robes sewn together with flakes of gold and purity.
She is wanted here and there.
She is pulled from this place to that one.
And yet she only wants to follow him.
She wants to watch him hunt.
She’s almost begging to be hunted.
But Cassiopeia would never beg.
Instead she strolls around the sky searching for him, daily.
Ignoring the crass warnings of every other constellation.
The conversations are laced with disturbing judgments
She wishes she could pluck the hurtful words right out of their mouths
So they could never speak ill of him again.
He hunts down the meek and vulnerable and aims.
Targets the center of their foreheads and waits.
And yet he’s never killed a star.
He’s only watched them shoot straight across the sky and explode causing the gunshot sounds to ripple across galaxies and the whispers begin.
He’s never taken another star’s life for the sake of sport.
The feeling of potential and power running through his veins to his fingertips and along the trigger is the only rush he wishes to have.
Cassiopeia waits around corners and watches the potential deaths and is not one bit surprised over his inability to kill;
To walk up to a star and demand his life.
Orion is not a hunter, but is hunted.
photo by: Alyssa Jiosa