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Photo credit: Steven Depolo

 

Short Story of the Month

  

After The Sky Fell

Seven year old Sheebah used to be afraid, but now she was just lonely.  She had been quarantined for what must have been a month.  White suits passed her door constantly.  Periodically they would come and stand outside the bubble where Sheebah was kept and whispered to each other as they wrote on clipboards stuffed with paper.  They were covered from top to bottom in white suits with tubes spaghetti-ing around the back of their heads.  Mirrored visors in the front of their head pieces reflected Sheebah’s own small face and her metallic gold bodysuit.

She had no idea who they were or how she got there. Sheebah was very confused about why they were keeping her there.  She wanted to go home, but she knew that her family was gone.  All of them, except for her, perished when burning rocks started raining from the sky like flaming mountains.   She remembered the event vividly.  

Sheebah and her family were playing double-dutch in the park when the sky began to fall.  It was Sheebah’s turn to jump into the spinning ropes.   She was rocking back and forth trying to catch the rhythm, the beads in her hair swaying and making music in her ears, when her cousin dropped the jump ropes and pointed to the sky.   The heavens turned from cerulean to violet to pitch black and scarlet.  People ran aimlessly. Screams echoed through the air like wailing sirens.  Mothers gathered their children like hens guarding their chicks under their wings.  Fathers grabbed the hands of their children and tossed them under makeshift shelters.  The ground quaked as tongues of fire leapt from the earth every time a gigantic falling object hit the ground.  People were thrown off of their feet, crushed under space matter, and burned to smithereens.   Sheebah stood and watched, unaffected and staring in wonder as the world ended around her.  The shaking ground did not unearth her feet.  The blinding light did not dim her eyes.  The infernal heat did not singe her wooly hair nor did it warm her skin, a matter of fact, it only made her tire black skin glisten in the fire light, accentuating her natural beauty as if her melanin absorbed the blaze to give her luminescence.

When the fire from heaven stopped falling, Sheebah stood surrounded by tattered flesh and splattered blood.  She cried out for her family, but could not decipher one torn limb from another.  She stood alone amidst the gory death garden in awe of the total destruction.  Metal and plastic from the playground married flesh and earth in jagged pieces of muck.  Nothing resembled its original state.  Only Sheebah was unscathed.

A white suit leaned in to observe Sheebah closer; then, scribbled something on its clipboard.  Three more white suits came to her bubble and leaned in towards her, their mirrors tilting to the side.   One of the suits began to unzip Sheebah’s bubble.  Once open, the white suit held its hand out to Sheebah. Sheebah reluctantly reached out, but she did accept because she wanted to be free from her plastic prison.

“Hi,” Sheebah whispered, her fingers fidgeting and feet shuffling.  She looked into the suit’s mirror and wondered who was behind it.

The suit nodded its head.  It hit a button on the front of its suit and a recording of Sheebah’s voice played then morphed into a different language.  The suit said something then it was translated through the suit as, “Hello. Nice to meet you.”

The suit walked Sheebah over to an oval table and sat some edibles in front of her.  Sheebah ate greedily.  This was the first time that she had eaten since the day the sky fell.  While in captivity, they put her through a strange machine, daily, which filled her belly and released her waste without Sheebah eating or using the bathroom.  The machine was painless, but Sheebah missed the taste of food and the privacy of digestive flux.  Sheebah decimated the food, which was surprisingly tasty; it reminded her of Memphis barbeque and mango coleslaw.  She then sucked up a packet of water.  Sheebah looked at the suit and asked, “When can I go home?”

The suit said, “Your people were destroyed in the takeover.  Somehow you survived.  We brought you with us because you are obviously a powerful being.”

Sheebah’s lips bent downward with the realization that she would probably be alone forever.

The suit reached out and patted Sheebah’s shoulder and said, “If you want, you can stay with us.  Would you like that?  We will take good care of you.”

Sheebah thought about it for a minute.  There were no options so she nodded her head; then, hugged the white suit.

The suit laughed and said, “Let me take this off.  We now know that you are not a potential threat to our immune system.”

Sheebah smiled with excitement.  She was ready to meet her new friend. Sheebah imagined the person in the suit would look like her grandma Ethel with blue hair and a slight mustache.  Grandma Ethel was the most beautiful woman in the world.  Sheebah wondered if her grandmother had escaped the firestorm.  Tears streamed from her eyes at the thought of her grandmother blown to pieces like the others.

“Here, here child,” the suite wiped Sheebah’s tears away.  “Everything will work out fine.  You will see.”

The suit reached above its head and began to unzip the giant white suit.  The suit peeled away like a banana peel and fell to the floor.  Sheebah’s eyes became wide as saucers as they lay upon the giant serpentine creature standing before her.  It reached out its scaly olive green hand and said, “I’m Wadjet, the protector of kings and queens.”  Wadjet curtsied and turned and gestured to another white suit.  The suite left the room and came back a few minutes later escorting a young light brown boy around the age of ten wearing a metallic gold suit like Sheebah’s.  

“Meet Solomon sweet Sheebah,” Wadjet said.  “The future belongs to you!” 

The serpent creature bowed down before Solomon and Sheebah.  All of the white suits unzipped and prostrated in unison as the two children looked at each other and smiled.                                                                                            

Violette L. Meier   4/8/16©

 

 Poem of the Month

 

Aging

My youth shadows me
Lurking one step behind but in full view
I miss the days when we were one in the same
Inseparable lovers joined and locked in every orifice 
Now you pull out slowly
Leaving me open and exposed
Taking a step back as I journey forward
Fading into the twilight of yesterday
Where we danced cheek to cheek
Fingers locked
Hips pressed close
The music now slows
A melody whispering in the background
Threatening to fade 
One day
Not very far away
For now
I will relish the traces of you that linger on my flesh
The sweet blush of your juvenescence
I clutch to breast your spring to my autumn
And remember that you will forever live within me
©Violette L. Meier 3/31/16

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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