It rained and rained for days and days, washing out the streets and the mud, and the current ripped away the flowers that she had spent hours and hours planting and pruning.
And when the rain stopped, she put on her bathing suit and her goggles, she swam out into the street, and looked up at the sky still dark and grey.
“Thank you.” She said, and Nevada turned green.
Flying gringos? Half human half machines with metal wings and flight devices attached to their stomachs. Oh those silly little natives, he couldn’t help but think. Over active imaginations and bright lights on dark nights it was easy to see how they could make such a huge mistake.
Or so he thought, until he saw the stamp and the cold eyes, and the gringo snatched up his organs, and pressed his belly button and flew away.
She read it everyday, sitting at the coffee counter in the little beat down diner, over on the corner of Main Street and 3rd.
Capricorn.
Taurus.
Leo.
Oh there, Cancer.
She didn’t believe in it, didn’t believe that the great balls of gas impossibly far away could have any influence on her life. But she read it anyway, because at least she knew what wouldn’t happen.
3 He sits at a bar, whiskey neat over and over until finally the barman takes his keys and he stumbles home to the empty apartment he used to share with her.
She stretches out in the bathtub, red wine at her fingertips, bubbles to her neck until her eyes flutter shut and she can finally mourn in peace.
Santa Fe.
Ocala.
They’ve never met, and never will.
“That’s dumb.”
“How ridiculous,” they all say. How can you be afraid of computers, in this day and age. They’re everywhere. They’re in everything, your car, behind the cameras watching.
“How do you communicate?”
Everybody has a computer, a phone, how else are you supposed to get a hold of them.
“When I see them?” She shrugs, and doesn’t understand all the huff. Its not really communication really, over the internet and the computers. How can you be certain of who you’re talking to?
But it doesn’t matter, she rejects them because she knows that one day they will think. She does not want her soul inside a machine, and she knows that that’s what they’re doing, sucking.
“Computers can’t think, they’re not conscious, they don’t have souls.”
No, not yet, but they’re stealing ours.
1 When he whispers, the world listens. His voice is always soft, always gentle, lulling. None resist, they can’t or won’t or don’t want to but it doesn’t matter.
He bends the world with his words. His voice can reshape it, change it, he can turn it into anything he wants.
The man sits alone in the woods, toes curling in lush moss, birds chirping over head. If only. If only they knew.
His powers, he can save the world, can rescue it.
He just needs to wish away the humans.
So he does.
1 When she finally clawed her way out of the earth’s crust, she was cold, and wet and naked. And as the shivers wracked her body, as goosebumps dotted her flesh she realized.
And the headlines: “Monstrous creature escapes from the depths of hell only to return there with out prompting.” Hardly concise and not very catching, but it conveyed the appropriate message.
She stretched out, comfortable. It was all relative anyway.
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He spent his entire life trying to figure out how to fly, how to get his feet off the ground. Too bad he didn’t realize, after all that time.
It was the landing he had to worry about.
He would fly, even if it was the last thing he did!
And it was.
That was the only way, after all.
The static shock, the tiny bursts of electricity that flashed in a dark room as she plugged in her phone charger. The little zaps that didn’t really sting after she shuffled socked feet across carpeted floors.
They had to do something, go some where. They couldn’t just fizzle into nothingness, cease to exist after such a sort experience.
She liked to think they were communication, the visible language of minuscule people, or animals, or something trying to relay messages across her room.
And they were. They were crying for help.
