Last Encounter

It was a three second glance that felt like eternity. The universe shrank to close the space between us, and erased all the people blocking the way. There was no longer an airport, and that adrenalin rush-run quickly to catch your plane feeling was gone. Three seconds silenced the loud sounds of busy people and took away the distracting aromas of the nearby food court, where crowds had gathered to satisfy their hunger. The hunger was gone.

People scattered like dropped marbles, willy nilly crazy-like in complete confusion. They saw the gun.

The last thing I saw was the spark.

Resistance

That seductive lull of not doing.

She tricked me with her innocence and helplessness.  Eyes closed, face relaxed and peaceful as her calm, rhythmic breath took the tension out of my body, and I smiled, seeing her there, sleeping.

Clutched in her hand was my notebook, full of ideas, thoughts, and other things meant to distract me.  The room was warm, and the light was soft and peaceful.  It was quiet.

Like death.

The essence of steampunk

Mechanic and welder Kulagin and his collegues work on electro-mechanical robot made with used car components in Divnogorsk outside Krasnoyarsk
Mechanic and welder Sergei Kulagin (R), 33, and his collegues work on the “Alien Aggressor”, an electro-mechanical robot measuring 3 metres (9 ft.) and approximately 600 kg (1,323 lbs) made by Kulagin with used car components, inside an automobile repair workshop in the Siberian town of Divnogorsk outside Krasnoyarsk, Russia, January 27, 2016. Kulagin, who works as a mechanic at an automobile service station, created more than a hundred sculptures with used car parts and components during his non-working hours. The “Alien Aggressor” robot will be shown to the public for the first time at an annual welding and metal working international exhibition in Krasnoyarsk in February, according to Kulagin. REUTERS/Ilya Naymushin

Patient 29 at Ground Zero

She possessed an X-ray gaze and spoke in a nonsense tongue that made people very angry.  They hated how she looked at them; it was unsettling.  On the inside, she was already an abomination, so they admitted her.

Patient 29 now lived in a white box.  She was slowly recovering from a laryngectomy.  Her eyes had been scooped out of her head, and they severed her spine so that she would not injure herself.  Feeding tubes and catheters kept her healthy.

Once a day, a priest would come and give her religion.  They said it would rehabilitate her soul.