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Emotions and Ambitions.
electricity pylons. I must have tilled in the serenity of my mind, in the run up to our meeting, every imaginable question possible. I looked out across open fields and just wondered at the majesty of it all.
Was I really about to meet people from our very own future, people who probably had more insight into me than I did. It was a temperant thought, to believe people, individuals could know things of my life, that had not even occurred yet. By the time two weeks had passed, I had managed to build myself into an entire bundle of nerves.
It was like counting down to a very difficult job interview, and experiencing all the emotions, the ambitions and failings that accompany such events. This would be the most significant point in my life, and I had no insight on how to handle it. That fateful night, I left home a little after 11pm.
I took one, long last look around my living room, not really knowing if I would ever see it again. I doused the light, pulled the front door shut and ventured forth to whatever waited my contribution. I approached the common itself just after 11.30pm, from the Crooked Billet roundabout and found a small side street which a previous reconnoitre had uncovered: Shortwood Ave'.
I parked at the far end, switched off my engine and lights, and enjoyed the solitude of my car for a moment or two before continuing. Ahead of me I could see a large lake, open common land beyond, and the distant motorway with its manic traffic streaming past as balls of car headlamps. I had put the moment off as long as possible. I left the vehicle, locked it and entered the common itself via a swing closed cattle gate. The water, to my right as I circled the lake looked mirrored over its surface, as a cold breeze gently rippled the water.
My body chilled, as if to hide my fear. It gave me the opportunity to shiver, without appearing scared. But if I am truly honest, the only thing that did visit my body that night, was fear: I was scared out of my life, and contemplated several times just turning, and heading deliberately fast in the opposite direction.
But I didn't. I'm not sure what pushed me forwards; curiosity, bravery, courage, or just plain stupidity, but forwards I went, my body slowly disappearing into the indemnity of night. I trace the topography of the lake, round past its small backwaters, and emerged on the far periphery, where I took up a position so I could view the entire expanse of open ground, and silhouette pylons dotted intermittently. They loomed out of the blackness like large, steel skeletons and enveloped my body with a sense of foreboding. From just after midnight the show began.
It was similar to an ever encroaching thunder storm. Every so often a flash of light would illuminate the blackness, in a split second display of electromagnetic defiance. Gradually, as time progressed, the display became more intense. Flashes of electric blue light increased from once every five minutes or so, to once every minute, and the stronger these pulses of light became, the more sick inside I felt.
What I would say resembled camera flashes finally abated around 1.50am. They gave way to a star studded, cold and frosty night with just the hint of surrealism cut amongst its dark fabric pitch. I remember checking my watch at 1.58am, and as I looked up from it, three red globes of light appeared central to the field. I watched helplessly as each globe of deep red, lit the apex of a large, central object.
I can only describe what I saw from that moment, as a craft which resembled a B2 Spirit, stealth bomber, only the rough edges exchanged for a perfect equilateral triangle. It must have been the size of a double decker bus, and remained almost static about three hundred yards ahead of me. I slipped from my seated position, and slowly began my approach, my eyes fixed, my footsteps cautious. It appeared similar to what I saw when out with Jack Spiller, only larger, and perhaps more advanced. I simply could not believe what lay ahead of me, its huge black bulk like an umbrella in the sky, and just the occasional discharge of electricity exploding from its hull.
I ceased in my approach, still some fifty yards from it, and ever prepared to run, if necessary. My feet were soaked from dew, and my hands nurnb from cold. My breath misted in white vapour each time I exhaled, and my heart beat like a drum. I watched the vehicle's lights slowly die, one at a time, until only a black shape lay solid against the black fabric of night. It
Below is a list of chapters for the Metaphysics Anthology. The book itself is designed as abit of fun! One man thinking out loud. You should not see it as science, merely enjoy the imagination of the human mind in full swing.
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