Web and Media Editor Bess Winter: Our miCRo series returns with Chris Haven’s “Eyeglasses and Rocketship,” a family story that takes the reader millions of light-years away to get a closer view of home.
Listen to Haven read “Eyeglasses and Rocketship”:
Eyeglasses and Rocketship
One of the mother’s children was Rocketship, the other Eyeglasses. When they were young, Rocketship enjoyed bouncing off the walls, and Eyeglasses loved to read. Rocketship put dents in the door frames, the ceiling, broke lamps, and knocked books off the shelves. Eyeglasses would pick up the books knocked from highest shelves, the ones that children were not supposed to read, and read them. Eyeglasses didn’t understand everything in the books but described things in them to Rocketship. Rocketship had no interest in the books but was happy to have their suspicions confirmed.
The world was larger.
Eyeglasses’ refraction corrected for distance, not for reading, and with a new prescription the stars came into clearer focus. “Mother,” Eyeglasses said. “Why didn’t you tell me about the stars?” The mother, Rocking Chair, said, “I did, dear. But now that you can see them, you understand them differently.”
Eyeglasses described the stars to Rocketship, who needed no prodding. So Eyeglasses served as navigator, and with Rocketship went exploring other universes. They promised Rocking Chair that they would be back and tell her and their father of everything they’re missing.
All of this travel happened in the length of time it took the father, Magnifying Glass, to make it from the kitchen back to the living room.
In no time at all Rocketship and Eyeglasses returned. “The universe, it’s expanding!” they exclaimed. The farthest star—if they left now, they might reach in time to let everyone know what lies beyond, how to never grow old.
“That’s nice, dear,” Rocking Chair said, settling back after the children had gone. She asked Magnifying Glass to tell her another story about what he saw. “The universe is contracting,” he said, peering through to the stars rocketing toward them. “We’re shrinking,” he said, “but we can make it this way for quite a long time.”
Chris Haven’s flash fiction has appeared in journals including Electric Literature, trampset, Fractured Lit, and Kenyon Review. His stories have been longlisted by Wigleaf, and one of his stories is listed in Best American Short Stories. He’s published a collection of short stories, Nesting Habits of Flightless Birds (Tailwinds, 2020), and Bone Seeker (NYQ Books, 2021), a collection of poems. He teaches writing at Grand Valley State University in Michigan.
