A YEAR UNDERFOOT – entry #14

A Year Underfoot

 

July 16th, 2033

I had a vision last night.

I was in a field and there was a woman, a beautiful woman. She was, however, not entirely human. She had human-like features, a human face, two arms, two legs, an identical bone and body structure, but she was not human, or, maybe, I should say, she was not of this earth. For all her similarities there was one glaring exception, her skin.

She radiated a pure white light.

She pointed to the skies and I looked up as storm clouds rushed overhead with great speed. The wind picked up considerably, and, – though it was a dream, I felt that very same wind sweep past me. I could smell the sweetness of the air and feel the moisture and the drop in pressure as the skies overhead grew dark.

This dream was more vivid than all the others before.

Inside the clouds an image took shape.

An image of hills, – rolling green hills, stretching out before me for miles and miles in every direction, and, from a hidden valley, a terrific lightning bolt shoots skyward and strikes an enormous alien ship perched high in the sky. The great ship shudders, and a serious of tremendous explosions light up the sky. The alien ship lists heavily to the port side and begins to drop from the sky.

I looked over to the woman, but she was gone.

I looked back to the ship, but it was gone as well.

I awoke with a start, sitting up in my bedroll.

I was back in camp. It was still dark outside and my heart was racing. Sweat beaded on my brow.

What was that?

 
July 16th, 2033
(second entry)

I’ve been on the bounce most of the day.

After last night’s dream I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I packed up and broke camp, – destination, Lake Casitas.

I’d only hiked a mile into the brush when the now familiar screech of a warbird echoed throughout the canyons. I hit the deck and rolled to my left, craning my head upward to see where the patrol was coming from. I crawled further back into the brush and waited for the craft to appear overhead, but no warbird came my way. Picking myself up, I drank some water and checked my compass. The southern tip of the lake was due west and with any luck I could make it before sunset.

Man, was I wrong.

I hadn’t counted on the heat.

It was hot, unseasonably hot. Triple digits hot. Hot enough so that I could see the ground cover wilting before my eyes, and hot enough so that I could watch the heat waves rising up off the next set of browning hills ahead. It was no illusion. By eleven o’clock the temperature had risen well above one hundred degrees and was still climbing. Sweat poured from every fiber of my being and I was going through my water way too fast. At this pace I would be out of H2O by early afternoon. My best bet was to find a spot of shade and wait until the late afternoon took hold before pressing on.

So, that’s what I’ve done.

I’ve found an old eucalyptus, plopped down underneath it and have called it a day. Simple enough. I may not move until morning.

God, I’m tired.

amazon.com/a-year-underfoot

 

 

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About paul nevins

Fiction writer, reader and baseball fan.
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