They say to seize the moment, but what if you have had no moments to seize? Is it your perception playing tricks on you, or can you be so utterly miserable creature not to have anything worthy to take? She watched the night sky, feeling clouded by the questions. Thus far in life, she felt nothing had ever been hers, nor was she even given a choice where everything might lead—drifting from one event to another as soon as her eyes opened. And for why? To do her part? Be what was expected of her? The funny thing was, no one ever expected her to be anything. And that she had become nothing.
Someone might ask how you can become nothing? It was simple. Make no waves, dare not to be yourself, and hide like there is no tomorrow. Maybe then no bad things happen, maybe then there is motion. But what if that motion is useless? Useless by her own standards. The only thing she had ever loved was the feeling of a sharp pen pressing a paper and seeing a narrow, perfect line form. But who would call that a standard for life? Others spoke of great art and its shaping power, but she didn’t speak of that. She loved that line and nothing beyond it. No expression took form. Only the act of pushing the sharp pen down and making a mark, a loop, anything to feel the friction in play.
Could you live for friction? Would it be the action worth staying here? Most would say no. It was the other people who made breathing lungs full of air compelling. But in her experience, people only had let her down. This was going back to the initial question: was it all a trick of perception? A perception which saw the night sky, felt the grass underneath her hands and the gentle breeze against her skin. Those were real, or so most would insist. Not all. Either way, would it be okay if she disappeared? Nothing held her here.
She lowered her gaze back down and saw the expecting eyes and a hand offered to her. This was a moment to be seized that much she was sure. The question was, would it be wise to take? There would be no going back. No returning home. No more the night sky she knew nor the grass green to the perfect color it was, changing from light of spring to the dark color of mid-summer, and then to the faded yellow of the fall. Earth would be no more hers. And they said not to trust aliens. They said so many things—no one agreeing on if they were there to probe and use humans like zoo animals or to offer an entire universe to be had.
She took the hand and let the alien pull her up. “So, where are we heading?” she asked.
Thank you for reading and have a spacy day ❤
P.S. Sometimes, I sometimes wish I could vanish into the universe. The night sky brings so much solace and wonders at the same time that the incomprehensible of it all is pure joy. Plus, aliens existing and visiting us would be nice. I can’t deny that. A dream of mine, and I think it forever is. I wish this book was translated, so more could read it: Ufologia ja ufokokemukset uskonnollisina ilmiöinä. Teoreettinen tutkimus by Jaakko Närvä. I read it at the university and went to the writer’s lectures. It considers ufo experiences as a religious experience and compares them to the old encounters with fairies, devils, and whatnots. The funny thing is that there are so many similarities, from loss of time to paralysis and being kidnapped to their world. All very wonderful things to experiment with as a writer.
© K.A. Ashcomb