-
- The moon was full behind me, and I was looking east;
the stars stuck fast in cool-ish air like the eyes of wary beasts. Just
sipping on my coffee, and thinking of my son, who's up and joined the Air
Force (?), putting college on the run. He'll crew the fixed wing aircraft
that are terror in the skies; he's on the road he's chosen, and he'll know
of that which flies . . .
-
- All at once a flaming bolus splits the night in quick
descent! I could almost smell it burning like a solder gun that's spent!
I listened in the quiet for the muffled sound of passage, and heard the
booms (transonic) like a prophet's voice or message!
-
- I saw it then -- a small white light that grew in it's
intensity; it didn't move, got bright as hell -- it had a *strange* propensity.
It winked out when its brilliance made me raise my hands alarmed; though
I reveled in its strangeness, I was gladdened, frightened, charmed. I see
the damnedest things in skies I *know* can have no end. Where anything
can happen, it's an open mind's your _only_ friend.
-
- ~~~~~~~~~*non*~~~~~~~~~
-
- The light winked out, but then resolved -- the structure
of a . . . craft! It darted quickly downward on its silent swooping track.
Reflecting silver moonbeams, it grew in girth and size. The color and the
detail -- it stopped my breath; it filled my eyes!
-
- With nary a bump it stopped with a thump, afloat in the
air, overhead! Rubbed eyes are no cure, I am slack-jawed, perturbed, (no
terror, no horror . . . some dread). Another few inches (?) my house is
destroyed! I'm concerned beyond measure, and a little annoyed that I think
of the house, a possession, a toy, when enigma comes calling, and I'm NOT
overjoyed.
-
- And I'm NOT overjoyed at this prospect of contact I've
studied and dreamed of 'till now! It's here in my FACE, no warm up or warning;
it'll upset my life, friend, and how! It'll freak out the wife, and derail
my son; I'll never get work as a teacher -- I'm DONE . . .
-
- I look again and STILL it hangs like my house's second
story, though the normal sounds of night go undisturbed. The dog's are
still not barking, doves still coo their late contentment; the night goes
on, unbothered -- unperturbed. I'm the only one that sees it (?), and the
only one upset (?), and I fill my lungs with air to shout for help!! Then
a thought comes to my mind, and it is mannered, cruel (?), but kind (??),
and I can't produce a whimper or a yelp. . . (???).
-
- Lehmberg@snowhill.com
-
- The first three paragraphs actually occurred -- are occurring.
Yeah, I know, stop the internal dialogue. You don't know -- shut up.
-
- If what remained of the seven actually happened to me
. . . I haven't a clue what I'd do. Regardless, the personal responsibility
of the occurrence is . . . weighty. Invariably, without regard to truth,
you become another whacked-out saucer nut with a pedestrian story NOT even
interesting enough to get you on a third-rate paranormal freak show. .
. Meanwhile -- anomaly FESTERS!
-
- I only speculate on what can be cruel and kind at the
same time . . . maybe someone with *disturbing* news that tries to break
it to you in the best possible way . . . consider, some ethical emergency
room doctors must be cruel to be kind . . . likely a set of circumstances
and conditions stranger than can even BE imagined. STILL, it'll perhaps
be like anything else in our conjectured reality in that you'll be taking
the inevitable good with the obvious bad. And the good COULD be magical.
. .
-
- Regarding the charm of the magical: Children may be children
and adults may be adults only because of the difference in technologies
between them. Young children are at a very primitive technological level
compared to their parents and teachers -- Brainiacs capable of feats reserved
for super beings, able to weave scary magics the children can see in moving
pictures before their eyes, *protectors* that never know defeat (for the
lucky ones. . .).
-
- Truly, I rankle at being treated like a child, but if
I'm acting like a child perhaps it is justified . . . Wow -- that was the
first time I used myself as a metaphor for humanity . . . delicious feeling!
Come what may, we likely ARE the children in this sector of space!
-
-
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