The ancients, they look on through time. They see the world now and remember what it was like then. They are in the gargoyles, in statues, in faces in stone. They are hidden where they could find space. They may be thousands of years old but they do not last forever. As age wears them the ancient spirit wears away too. Look at that old stone head on the corner of the wall. It’s spirit is washing away with every bit of grit the rain wears away. See that old stone face on the plinth? Hands rub its bald head and gradually it dwindles.
Ancient memories dwindle too. Now there are moments of sunshine seen six hundred years ago which will not last much longer. There a remembrance of a lost husband or wife that was once strong but now veiled. Ancients seeing the world now are amazed at the destruction and damage. Trees that they have lived with cur down in an instant. Buildings they became part of ripped apart and turned to rubble.
Now the ancients share with younger spirits. To be a homeless ancient is to gradually disperse into the air and blow away on the wind. Long forgotten, never to be seen again.
Ruth had been in the garden cutting back a vine plant all day She decided to shower as broken bits of twig and leaf had fallen on her and twisted in her hair.
As she started to shampoo her hair she struggled to untangle all the bits of twig. It was getting caught even tighter. She tried some conditioner but the vine was strong and she thought she might have to get some scissors. It was so prickly, bits were scratching her hands and scalp. It felt as though it was pressing on her hair, her nose? Infiltrating her ears. She knew then that it was growing! The water and the conditioner was feeding it. No matter how she struggled the vine grew and tangled around her. It slipped into her mouth as she tried to cry out.
Later a neighbour, who had noticed water running out of the house, called the police. They eventually broke in.
“No sign of anyone in there.” “We’ve turned off the water,” the policeman said. ” Funny thing, there’s a huge vine growing in the bath. They must have left it there so it had water” …..”very strange shape, you could almost imagine it had arms and legs” ..
It was a quiet autumn day and nothing much was happening. She had been out shopping and was starting to put stuff away in the fridge. Suddenly there was a huge gust of wind which rattled all the windows and blew lots of leaves along the path. It started to rain and the sky grew grey and then black. The kitchen was so dark that she had to put the light on. She thought she saw a figure outside, but when she tried to look through the window the glare from the electric light reflected back and made it impossible to see out.
She continued to put things away. Then entered the living room. She heard a knock coming from the front door, “hang on” she called, fumbling to find the light switch, ” I will be there in a sec.”
She turned the key in the door and gasped as she opened it. A very short person dressed all in black and wearing a plastic skull mask stood by her front door….
“Trick or treat!” screamed the child loudly over the sound of the gale.
A light from the sky settled gently on to the field at the back of the housing estate. The sound was muted. No one would have heard it if they had been more than 50 metres away.
But on that night Sam had been looking up at the sky from a corner of the field on the local footpath. She had been struck by the beauty of the Milky Way and the clarity of the night on this chilly evening. She had been about to leave when she saw the light from the corner of her eye. A meteor? Too slow. A plane? The flashing lights were not there, just one spotlight. A helicopter? No sound …. She stood still as it landed. The classic ufo shape that she had seen on many old black and white films.
She was surprised at how calm she felt. She didn’t know whether to move toward the object or run away. Finally she noticed a yellow ramp with steps lowering down to the ground.
Why not be the first? Why not make contact? She walked slowly up the slope of the field and came to the base of the steps……
Funny how the light shines in this glade she thought. The trees and the beach look pink and purple. It must be the weather. Then she looked up to where the sun should be, but the star she saw was red, like the sun when you see it through thick clouds on the horizon. But this star was small and high up in the sky. She could tell it wasn’t her sun. You could actually look at it without being blinded.
She tried to remember how she had got here, what had happened to her? All she could think of was the lights in the sky the night before. Not meteors but green flashes, like falling fireworks. Yes, then something had lifted her up and everything had gone dark and silent….
Where am I? Where have I been brought to? she thought, this place is so peaceful, so quiet. Then she realised what was missing, birdsong, insects churring, the everyday sound of traffic… Wherever she was she knew now it was alien. It could not be Earth.
Written in response to Sue Vincent’s Thursday #writephoto prompt here
Am I on Earth or an alien planet? I thought. I was walking around the lake, the ground was wet. In the distance I could see a metal spike rising up from the ground, with something sticking out, attached to it.
I got closer, the thing was clearly metallic, greenish copper coloured.
It was a sculpture of a frog, feet wrapped around the spike. It seemed to be looking at me? How? Its metal isn’t it?
Then it moved! One arm came up, it rubbed its eye in that odd way frogs do. It opened its mouth. .. The last thing I remember was its tongue flashing out, catching me round the neck. . The world faded.
The old school walls were damp and the paint was peeling off them. There were holes where ceiling tiles had fallen down and sunshine had broken through the roof.
She walked between discarded chairs, the tables were stacked against the walls. At the front of the classroom stood one of those rotating chalkboards. Grey with layers of chalk.
She reached out and pulled on the join between the boards but the thing was jammed up, no movement.
She remembered the first day she had taught here. Registration followed by the history of the celts. Teaching about Boudicca and the ancient Britons.
Nowadays children didn’t come to school. They were all home schooled, isolated, plugged in. Teaching was easy. Link to the local computer by an imput in the cranium. Download all the information, sit in a chair and learn the curriculum.
She remembered the sweet feeling of imparting knowledge The look of wonder when a pupil understood a new concept. Ideas flying from lips to ears to brains.
No more, no enthusiasm, just imput, data, no fun.
She sighed, closed the door to the classroom. She walked home.