Contact! - Ode to the
Abducted, Part Three
By Alfred Lehmberg <>

Ode Part I
Ode Part II
Ode Part III
Ode Part IV

Ode Part V
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.
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. . . (???).
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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