That tree doesn’t look right? She said. It’s growing in a funny way. The left side could almost be a cage.
He looked across to where she was pointing, it did look strange. But then these were old trees. There almost seemed to be a pattern to it.
They sat on a bench in the graveyard and watched the sunset over the victorian houses beyond. The tree seemed to slump slightly as the sky darkened, but they didn’t notice as they were in deep conversation.
The top of the tree gradually brushed the ground and slid sideways towards them. The cage of twigs and branches shaking gently although there was no breeze. The boughs crept forward, the front twigs lifting up like fingers on a huge hand. Then, Drop! The branches encircled its victims, squeezing them. There were twigs piercing their veins. No chance of escape. They were plant food!
She sat looking into the hand mirror, she was going to put her mascara on, but her face was distorted. She suddenly realised it looked like a playing card, one side flipped over. What the hell was going on….. She felt her face, it seemed normal? She tried to touch the glass of the mirror… Her finger seemed to penetrate its surface. A feeling like rubber or elastic… Push, her finger disappeared into its surface. She pulled her hand away…
She thought for a second, then leaned forward and put her eye near the glass, she felt a pulling sensation, then – POP! She was in another world?
Sunlight burst through the grey clouds, but not normal light, and from the wrong direction. Where had this blast of radiation come from? Was it just light or were there other sections of the radioactive spectrum? The blast blew the clouds away. Leaving a sparkling blue sky, only for the clouds to come roiling back seconds later. Thunder rumbled, lightning sparked overhead.
It was the supernova that had been the star Betelguse. Life had been damaged by the blast, would it, could it survive?
An oily sheen of light flowing out from an almost full moon. Twisted and turned leaves in the orange street lights. Like fire burning up, burning the leaves. Spiralling flickers like sparks from a bonfire. Ice and fire, light and burning embers. Do you reach down and touch the world? Sputtering and guttering your cold glow submerges the heat. Ice spikes fall and pierce the ground. Describe to me what you see. Says the moon….
At 3am on Halloween morning he awoke to see a figure by the bed. Still, silent, watching him. He blinked and it was gone. But it’s memory stuck in his mind. A grey haired tall woman. Middle aged, quite slender. He sat up and looked all round the room, but the only noise was the tick of the clock and the hum of the central heating. There was no place to hide in the small single bedroom. Not even any curtains to hide behind, with a telltale shoe sticking out. He doubted anyone could squeeze behind venetian blinds…..
Eventually sleep dragged him down into its arms again. Then when he was settled, the figure pushed through the wall and back next to him again. Eyes staring, never blinking, a look of sadness on her face. Never knowing her grandson till now. Knowing it was his last night on earth. One minute here… Tick… The next.. Gone.
Eyes open, staring at the ceiling, or eyes closed and flashes and patterns inside my eyelids. Curling tight in a ball, shivering with cold. Why did I turn the heating off? Pulling the duvet over my head, hoping the warmth of my breath will bring feeling back to my hands. Its only October but the temperature has dropped. So many nights without proper sleep. Pain and worries mingle, darkness does not enfold me in its arms, but instead picks on my mind. It hurts me, darkness extends into the future. Dawn arrives later every morning. Enveloping me in misery. Stay up, keep the lights on. Speed the night through watching TV.
Only days till Halloween, what is waiting for me? Noise outside again. Is there anyone there? If I could sleep I would be oblivious to it. Oh what can I do?
A mouth full of teeth? No two! When the dragon egg hatched Ernic did not expect to see this! Double headed dragons were a rarety these days. They were more legend than reality.
The dragon was named Tuis, meaning two, and the villagers became more nervous as it grew. Ernic was given the task of feeding it. But those two heads could eat double what a normal dragon ate. Crunching bone and flesh. Dragons didn’t eat humans but they were carnivores. They would sometimes belch flame but they did not need to tendorise their food, their teeth were strong enough to bite through anything.
A gap of a few months ensued, all was quiet, Tuis continued to grow. But his mood started to change. Now he was angry. It was as if each head had a different mind and they started to squabble. One head was more dominant and no matter how Ernic tried it would grab more food. Tuis one was bigger than Tuis two. It had a darker gleam in its eyes. Shar teeth would snap at its twins head.
Finally it happened that One’s teeth grazed Two’s neck. Snap! The deed was done. Tuis smaller head collapsed forward. Then a look of utter despair came across Tuis face. He crumpled. Double trouble. Dead.
I could add edges to this photo and make a more definite heart shape, but I like it as it is. Late summer fluffy clouds drift in a sky that turned cloudy and grey an hour later. Laurel, Russian vine and Wisteria frame the blue. The vine has been cut back and the flowers are turning brown. The Wisteria needs pruning and the laurel is blocking out most of the light in our sunny patch.
Most of the rest if the garden is covered over with trees. The leaves gather light from every gap. It’s amazing how they space themselves so they fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.
You look up and try and see dragons or puppies in the sky. Dancing horses, faces, hands, ufo’s, giraffes, teddy bears. It’s all there, up in that heart of sky.
She gave me the metal cat as a present, it was sweet of her, but I could not get over the staring eyes. Googly eyes. Glass eyes. It was like the cat had no eyelids.
I put my ‘present’ on the windowledge in the kitchen. As the nights drew in the cat was more noticeable. The eyes, staring. I would try and look the other way as I walked past it to the back door or the bathroom, and on my return I would look at the cooker or the fridge just to avoid its eyes. Her eyes, definitely female, feline eyes.
It was a few months later, September or October, when the nights began to last longer than the days. I looked over at her, but she was facing the other way? Looking out of the window? I asked my husband, no he hadn’t moved her. I asked him to put her back facing inwards. She’s heavy so he did it for me. But, the next night, the same thing. We moved her back… This was the same every night for a week. It kept happening.
The next night I looked and she wasn’t there. I looked around, she was by the cat flap! This was mad. Either my husband was doing it, or the cat had some sort of magical power? I was getting scared it was very strange. I wanted to tell someone, but my husband said if I told the police, or friends, they would think I was going daft.
Every time I put the cat back it moved overnight. So what else could I do? I stayed up after my husband had gone to bed. I looked in the kitchen, and as I did, the cat stretched, front legs, then back legs, arched it’s back, tail straight up…. And jumped… Jumped off the ledge, onto the kitchen counter and onto the floor! It looked back with those eyes…. I was mesmerised. It walked to the back door and I followed. It pawed at the door. What could I do? I opened it. As I did, ghostly black cat shapes poured in! All of them with staring eyes. I knew then I wasn’t safe….
Something is watching me… Not cctv, not a plane or helicopter, not a satellite. Just… Something.
People say I’m mad, I’ve lost my mind. I believe in portents, I’ve seen the films, read the books. I looked at the Internet. The news isn’t fake. It’s real. Aliens aren’t coming, they are here. My friends call it gibberish, flim flammery, but I Know I’m being watched.
The eyes are there, I can feel their power. Watching, waiting, ready to take over. All it will take is one tweak to their gene pool. One extra piece of the puzzle. One grim fact and then……. Man will be subservient.