Surreal

It Rises

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From the depths of the Earth, it rises.

The ground shudders, cleaves in two, while nearby rocks tip and slide into the endless dark below. The Earth groans, a deafening rumble like the blast of nearby dynamite, then falls silent, holding its breath in anticipation.

At last, the creature peeks at the world above through its twenty slitted eyes. It is still groggy, still half asleep, and for a moment it thinks it must be dreaming, for the Earth has changed since it saw it last.

No longer wild, no longer the boundless expanse of forests, mountains, and rocks it once was, the world is now hedged into neatly trimmed lines, penned in on every side by foreign constructions of metal and artificial stone. A strange configuration, certainly the makings of a dream. Yet after further examination beneath the blazing light of the sun, it understands that what it sees is real enough.

Dazed, it heaves itself to the surface and yawns. Change or no change, it feels good to be awake, to roam the Earth once more.

A shrill cry, followed by a scream. The creature turns its bulbous head.

The organisms it encounters are ghastly, hideous bipeds with bodies like bean poles and large, gaping orifices through which they utter the most horrendous sound.

Terrified, it bounds across the grass.

More cries, along with meaty, gutteral slaps as the organisms turn their heads to communicate. It runs, through a series of black marked paths and artificial stone walks, it runs, encompassed everywhere by towering, glass-filled monoliths, flashing lights atop iron poles, and self-propelled vehicles that screech to a halt as the creature flees the nightmare that surrounds it.

It can’t get away. Everywhere it turns, those ghastly creatures shout at it, pointing, shrieking, gibbering with equal parts terror and rage. Yes, indeed, the world has changed, and not for the better.

Exhausted, overwhelmed, and out of its depth, it scrambles back to the field it rose out of. Let these hateful creatures have their world. As for itself, it’s seen enough.

It arrives at the tunnel to its home to find more mutant bipeds, staring down into its private space like shameless voyeurs.

Rage consumes it. My home. They’ve surrounded MY home! All it wanted was to walk the Earth in peace, and even this simple pleasure has been taken from it. Fine, but it’ll be damned if it’s going to let these horrid creatures rob it of his only remaining sanctuary.

It peers down at them with each of its twenty eyes and lets loose a ferocious howl. So low, so deep is the sound that the ground begins to resonate. Once more, the Earth shakes, and those evil creatures, terrified, scurry like the ants they are, leaving it alone at last.

It leaps into the hole, descends the mile-long tunnel to its home. Then it covers the opening with a fresh avalanche of stone. It finds its dark and rocky mattress undisturbed and jumps into it like a frightened child, willing the nightmare to end.

Maybe when it next awakens, the world will have changed again, this time for the better.

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Answering the Call

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I.

Shining.

Resplendent.

A world of white sand and endless palms, of navy blue skies and shimmering otherworldly horizons.

You belong. You are one of us.

It calls to me. In the dark and endless night, it calls to me.

Come. Be one with us.

But I can’t. Not yet. The tether that binds me to my Earthly life holds fast; I cannot escape.

Oh, but that other world: It calls to me, and every day, it gets harder to turn away.

II.

A dream.

I am floating. Soaring through the clouds. Riding a jet stream through endless blue.

Not clouds anymore but foam, like the froth from a just opened bottle of champagne. And water, sparkling like a bed of polished sapphires.

Come. You belong. You are one of us.

I am ache and need. I know no other purpose, no other destiny than to answer this ancient, unyielding call.

A hand, reaching from beyond to carry me away. I stretch to grasp it with my own. But it’s so far away, so very far away…

I come awake beneath the dim and silver light of the moon.

A spark kindles in my chest—a smoldering ember of pain and desire that I realize now will never die—and I lie awake until the sun’s first rays pierce my bedroom window with their sickly, comatose light.

III.

Pain.

I turn my weathered, pockmarked face toward a gray and ashen sky and cringe when the worn out joints in my knees issue a loud, crackling pop.

I behold the world from the other side of time, as an old man who’s ascended the golden ladder of life, only to discover it was never actually gold, only worthless, tarnished brass.

The spark that erupted in my chest long ago has transformed into a fire. I am immolation and desolation made flesh—consumed by hurt and heartbreak, and ravaged by broken promises, I am cast adrift.

Come.

For years, I’ve ignored that other world’s call. It was just noise, I told myself, a foolish fancy with no real-world significance. Only now, my “real-world” life is useless to me.

Old and infirm, I can no longer work, and those I once loved are dead. The Earth, rich in promises, has gifted me with rags.

Now, I strain at last to hear that other world’s voice—Come. You belong. You are one of us.—and bring it into focus once more.

I know now where my true home lies, and I turn away from my former life to follow after it.

IV.

A threshold.

Beyond: blue skies, white sand, and endless sparkling ocean. Behind: gray clouds, desolation, and endless darkness. It’s a wonder I remained for as long as I did.

The entrance to that other world is ringed in fire, but I do not hesitate.

I walk forward.

Forward into the fire.

Forward into love.

Forward into the light.

V.

A flash.

Pain.

I cry out, hold fast to that other world’s call as my old self is burned away.

Come. You belong. You are one of us.

Suddenly, the pain is gone.

I am a new creation.

Love envelopes me.

I am home at last.

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