Perspective

Perspective

“Is there a problem?” Henny asked, looking up at Fred. Fred had totally stopped working and was staring off into space.

“I don’t know, there’s something...”

“Well what? Should we run?”

“I don’t know. The air is different. It’s moving, differently, it smells different. The sky looks different too, the colors are moving funny.”

“That happens all the time. The target moves, drops, rolls. It happens. That’s not new.”

“But this is more different. Bigger different. And there are new sounds I don’t understand. The sounds that usually hang together, they sound very strong suddenly.”

“So?”

“Well, the target smell is strong, but there’s another really strong smell too, one that we don’t usually smell much.”

“What do you think it is?”

“I’m not sure. Not one we usually find next to the target. And, I remember getting up on this target really quickly, but now it seems we are suddenly very far from the ground.”

Henny looked, “Yikes! Did the wind blow? I didn’t feel the wind blowing!”

“I think some creature picked up this target. Some creature bigger than we can even imagine!”

“Pfft! You, my friend, have eaten too much of this fallen target! You’re drunk!”

Standing in the driveway, Jacky had picked up a small Mulberry, “A bird must have dropped this here,” she’d said to John, “I don’t think we have even one Mulberry tree in this entire neighborhood!” Then, “Oh! And look at the tiny ants on it!”