jaron summers (c) 2024
once upon a time, in an age where the stars whispered secrets and the universe spun its mysterious tales, there lived a fella named Frank Sharpe, known among his peers as “God’s Geek.”
Frank, a man who held the Good Book in one hand and a scientific tome in the other, led a team of starry-eyed adventurers called the Photon Wranglers. They were a crew as dedicated to unraveling the cosmos’s riddles as a hound dog is to a scent.
Now, these Photon Wranglers, with their eyes glued to the James Webb Telescope, had their minds set on deciphering the secrets of the Big Bang. Frank, a staunch believer in Hugh Everett’s mind-bending theories, always held that by merely observing, they could stir the cosmic soup and change the recipe.
One fine day, or night, considering these folks kept odd hours, they spotted a galaxy, faster than a jackrabbit, hurtling towards our Milky Way.
It was a collision course of celestial proportions, with an endgame set in just a few Earth days. The situation was stickier than molasses in January.
But Frank, never one to balk at the impossible, proposed a wild idea. “Folks,” he said, “what if we just look at this impending doom through our trusty Webb? Maybe, just maybe, our gaze might steer the course of these cosmic behemoths.”
Some called it folly, others a stroke of genius. But when the Wranglers trained their telescope on the galactic dance, lo and behold, the universe blinked. In ways only understood by those who speak its language, the calamitous path altered, stretched over the eons.
The Milky Way and Earth were spared, saved by the sight of those who dared to look and, by looking, change the narrative of the stars.
And so, the tale of Frank Sharpe and his Photon Wranglers became a legend whispered in the hallowed halls of science and beyond, a testament to the power of faith, science, and a good, hard look into the heart of the cosmos.