First on my wear-the-pants agenda was to secure the homestead. Next was to find out where Brandon was. I found him upstairs on the couch oblivious to everything except his heartburn. I said, "Take some Pepto Bismol, fool!" and then went outside, bathrobed, to catch the stroller before it disappeared.
This front-porch outing primed me with those freaky feelings you get when you have to take the garbage can to the end of the driveway at night and end up running back, heart pounding, sure monsters or The Nothing are coming.
After I sent Brandon to bed I had to find out what was rattling on the back porch so I would be able to sleep. I had just stepped out when I met The Nothing eye to eye. The city lights illuminated the dust blown up into the black sky in a fashion I had never before seen.
"It was just the light bulb rattling in the socket? You are one hypersensitive woman- no wonder you don't sleep," I said to myself. With a deep breath, I turned my back on IT.
No sooner, the very fabric of spacetime gusted up behind me and slapped me on the ass very harassment-like. I was shocked first by its firm hand and then totally offended by what it said to me. I'm sure it hissed, "This is the beginning of the end."
I was horrified.
But I thought it could be right.
Can you feel it in your bones?
Can you feel the very earth and the whole of humanity, unrested, vibrating at a dangerous frequency like crystal ready to explode?
Spacetime.
I imagine the satellite to be the one Iran just launched.
What poetic imagery!
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