One of the blogs I follow is, Write to Done, which is about encouraging writers. As part of that goal they sometimes have “Scene Stealers“, where the post author starts a scene and then we finish it, in 350 words or less. Today I participated. Here are the results.
The tiny park was almost deserted. Boundary walls, lawn, play area. Two toddlers throwing sand at each other, their mothers or nannies chatting next to them, strollers put aside. Nobody else – not even a gardener or dog or cat.
But the note had been emphatic: “Be there at 1pm. At 1:14, you will get the scoop of a lifetime.”
I fidgeted and glanced at my watch. 1:14pm. Suddenly there was a pierceing flash of light, and a wave of force so strong I felt it move my car. I stepped outside and waited for the world to reach visual cohesion. I kept trying to look for the park but as my vision cleared I realized, there was no park. A perfectly round and semi-sphereical crater was where the park should have been.
In the center was an object, like a coffin off the set of some science fiction blockbuster. It was smooth on the outside, but underneath was a textured surface, like a scarab shell, it even refracted the sun light in that familar way.
I’ve seen this movie, I know it’s damned stupid to touch it; but I felt drawn to it. Against my better judgement I was kneeling next to the thing. I touched the surface of it with a trembling hand, my brain screamed at me to stop. When my full palm and fingers were in contact, it lit up like a CES demo device.
After a moment, the object emitted the hiss of released gas. I lept back, and watched as half of the object tilted toward me, making it’s coffin analogy complete. A figure sat up, it was draped in some sort of cloth, similar to the textured part of the shell. An appendage moved and pulled the material away. I hid my face. This will change everything, I thought.
A moment later I heard a voice in my head. “You’re right. Things will change I am the answer to that great question.”
I peeked through my fingers. “Which one?”, I squeeked.
“Are you alone in the universe.”