[989 words]
The first set of numerals fell silently. They fell slowly and gently, tumbling like autumn leaves. They landed on a Sunday Edition newspaper in a doorway. As they landed they lined up like soldiers, each about two inches long.
Bold black print, they now formed the headline 2575.
I slowed my walk a moment, to gaze at it. I wondered what it was about. Not so much what it meant. More so, why the numerals fell from the sky and then lined up on the paper. It wasn’t my doorway or my paper, so it wasn’t my business. I continued walking.
There was nobody around, it was silent. It was a hot Sunday morning in the city. The cement was already radiating heat upward onto my legs.
As I walked, I hugged the building’s wall, keeping to the shade. The heat seemed to scorch my skin. Where was everyone? Not a bird, or a dog. There were no weeds in the sidewalk cracks. It was too dry, too hot for a weed to grow. Nothing but cement sidewalk and brick buildings.
The silence was broken by screaming. A high pitched squeal – scream.
It came from high above me. I stopped to peer upwards into the sun. It was so blinding, I couldn’t see. The screeching came nearer, I backed up a few feet. Splat! A large numeral 2, about 12 inches tall splattered in front of me, more screaming…Splat! Numeral 5. Splat, 7. Screaming. Splat numeral 5.
Bold font 2575 lay bleeding black in front of me on the scorching sidewalk.
2575 was writhing in pain and the black ink started to bubble up like thickening tar. And no one but me to witness this, not one living being.
I realized then, that both 2575 and I were dying, all alone on a hot sidewalk.
I was confident that there was not a shred of remorse in the whole world on this, the last of days. I was now crying and knelt down to pray with 2575.
The entire planet sighed with acute exhaustion as everything went black.
My next recollection is of floating in a weightless atmosphere.
I looked around to see my body, to verify if I was alive. I could see nothing of solid matter. I began sensing tiny specs around me. I felt kindred with these specs, we were part of each other. It seemed I was no longer a single entity, but part of something loose and in movement. It was peaceful and lovely. This floating about went on for what seemed an eternity. I had no individual worry, need or thought. Only, collective peace throughout the cluster.
Then, a disturbance arose, forcing each of us to whip around madly. We began clinging to each other. After this event subsided, we were a clump. We were now emitting a bright light and felt a growing warmth.
It felt special, comforting and amazing. We drifted together, cradling each other gently. A few straggling specs from loose clusters floated towards us, as if they were uncontrollably attracted and we welcomed them and we grew closer, warmer, stronger. We drifted along like this for a long time. It’s hard to know how long in space.
Far down below on the planet, today’s Sunday morning lecture series at the University staff brunch had just concluded. Featured academic Dr. Erickson, had wrapped up his talk on Quantum Theory Superposition by repeating his main point, “all measurements of observables are made at specific instants of time, therefore probabilities are only assigned to those measurements. Change the instants of time, my friends…and you may well need to question that which you had firmly believed! And when you become frustrated and unsure, remember…nobody said this was going to be easy!”
After the lecture, Dr Erickson decided to walk down the street to a nice, quiet Irish pub and enjoy a Guinness. As he walked, he noticed how very hot it was. And how vacant the streets were.
Our clump grew larger and warmer until the heat became unbearable. Hotter, brighter, combustible! The great pressure was upon us and we began to crumble into smaller clumps. We were now five specs to our clump as magnetism pulled us towards the planet. We held tight as we entered the planet’s atmosphere, we fell fast and hard!
Suddenly, we splattered onto a hot, hard surface next to a small clump of two specs. We lay there, trying to understand when we heard another descending scream. Splat, a larger clump of seven. Then, the last group of five splattered down the line. We began boiling onto the hot, hard surface.
Suddenly, a giant seemed to hover over us, something was blocking the sun. The giant was crying and began praying, “And when you become frustrated and unsure, remember…nobody said this was going to be easy!” The shade cast by the giant began cooling us and his tears splattered us, soothing our burns.
Just then, in an instant of specific time, a large cement block high up on the building’s facade, the very cement block that boasted the building’s address “2575”, became dislodged and smashed down upon the crouching giant’s head. And with zero regard to probabilities, the superior protein rich brain matter of our particular giant began nourishing us back to life.
As we quickly began to take form and grow strength, an energy left the giant’s corpse in a blinding white light. The streak of white hot light shot up into the sky. By this time, my eyes were rapidly forming. I watched the streak slam into the blue sky, explode as a bright mass and then settle down into a star-like form. As my eyes adjusted to more light, I lost track of the new star against the light of day. I hope to see the star in the dark night sky.
But if I don’t, no worry. I know it’s there. Most probably.
Tess Hart resides in the wild of Minnesota. Tess was published many moons ago, then she became entrapped in money making. She’s found her way back to pen and paper.
