through my palm, as if they were air. As if I was air. It was not a pleasant feeling. Under my hand, Benjamin shuddered. I felt a kind of electric current, something passing between us through my spread fingers, touching-not-touching his crop circle. Many things were suddenly clear. Many things. Little clues, grazed necks, odd bruises, strange illnesses, illogical pains. Aliens.
“What do you think?” he said. “Am I going to be all right?”
I looked at him, straight into his eyes. They were grey. There were strange geometries behind his eyes, and I thought I understood them. I didn’t say anything. His eyes grew large. After a moment I realized that he was afraid. And only a little after that I realized that he was afraid of me.
“You too, Dr. Katz,” he said. “You too!” —and he passed out.
I climbed onto the chair and from there onto the table, and stood there, looking down at the thin silent man who had spent the majority of his life suffering from imaginary diseases that were, at the end, quite real. Maybe he was in love with his diseases. Maybe he was in love with me. It didn’t matter. Not now, with the aliens controlling him, and me. I gritted my teeth and dove, head first, into the crop circle, into his navel.
~
He still comes to visit me every week. Right after they released him from the hospital he came to see me. How nice of him. Maybe he’s still in love with me, even after I jumped into his belly. They told me the doctors managed to reconstruct his digestive system. My head, however...
He comes to visit me every week, and the little greys are in his eyes, on his hands, forming and growing, growing and spreading all over his body. I have no mirror here, and I can’t look at my body, but I think it’s the same with me. I think I hope it is so. It’s hard to be sure, with a head like mine.
I think I see the world in black and white, or grey. Apart from Benjamin no one would understand. I know exactly what the medical thinking is. I know exactly what the people who surround me would think of anything I would say. I know what I would have thought. I’m well-behaved, but that doesn’t help.
Only Benjamin, only Benjamin can help me. He and the little greys, the growing greys, the great big greys. Now, when I see the look in his grey eyes, when I imagine the touch of his hands, the coils on his wrists, beyond the reinforced glass window separating us, beyond the jacket enfolding me, I know that he loves me.
I love him too.
But most of all I love the greys.
Contraption: Flight Machine
There’s a world in which that force which binds you to the ground is so powerful that it isn’t even recognized as a force. The only living things upon this world are large, flat boulders thinking high-voltage thoughts and communicating by electric induction. They never move, they never get born and they never die. One would think that they wouldn’t be able to grasp the concept of “up,” but that’s untrue—they are very directional beings, and they listen to the sun above them singing hell and damnation all day long. They can’t, however, grasp the idea of themselves ever moving, either up or in any other direction.
Then, one day, one of the boulders receives a transmission, or maybe it is just a dream. In any case, in this vision there is a flying machine. It has wings. It soars slowly up and over a hill. The boulder cannot grasp any of these things, and it is frightened. Then there is a solar flare, hell and damnation, and the vision is no more.
VegeScan
Elijah nagged us the whole way.
Throughout the flight from Earth he yammered and chattered and gabbled and nattered about his VegeScan, about how it was an unbelievable bargain at the Duty Free, about how he won’t be fooled again, about how he was now prepared for the whole shebang otherwise known as Life.
“ Nu ,” Schwartz said to him as the stewardess approached, food-tray in hand, “So where is this VegeScam of yours?”
“Vege
“What do you think?” he said. “Am I going to be all right?”
I looked at him, straight into his eyes. They were grey. There were strange geometries behind his eyes, and I thought I understood them. I didn’t say anything. His eyes grew large. After a moment I realized that he was afraid. And only a little after that I realized that he was afraid of me.
“You too, Dr. Katz,” he said. “You too!” —and he passed out.
I climbed onto the chair and from there onto the table, and stood there, looking down at the thin silent man who had spent the majority of his life suffering from imaginary diseases that were, at the end, quite real. Maybe he was in love with his diseases. Maybe he was in love with me. It didn’t matter. Not now, with the aliens controlling him, and me. I gritted my teeth and dove, head first, into the crop circle, into his navel.
~
He still comes to visit me every week. Right after they released him from the hospital he came to see me. How nice of him. Maybe he’s still in love with me, even after I jumped into his belly. They told me the doctors managed to reconstruct his digestive system. My head, however...
He comes to visit me every week, and the little greys are in his eyes, on his hands, forming and growing, growing and spreading all over his body. I have no mirror here, and I can’t look at my body, but I think it’s the same with me. I think I hope it is so. It’s hard to be sure, with a head like mine.
I think I see the world in black and white, or grey. Apart from Benjamin no one would understand. I know exactly what the medical thinking is. I know exactly what the people who surround me would think of anything I would say. I know what I would have thought. I’m well-behaved, but that doesn’t help.
Only Benjamin, only Benjamin can help me. He and the little greys, the growing greys, the great big greys. Now, when I see the look in his grey eyes, when I imagine the touch of his hands, the coils on his wrists, beyond the reinforced glass window separating us, beyond the jacket enfolding me, I know that he loves me.
I love him too.
But most of all I love the greys.
Contraption: Flight Machine
There’s a world in which that force which binds you to the ground is so powerful that it isn’t even recognized as a force. The only living things upon this world are large, flat boulders thinking high-voltage thoughts and communicating by electric induction. They never move, they never get born and they never die. One would think that they wouldn’t be able to grasp the concept of “up,” but that’s untrue—they are very directional beings, and they listen to the sun above them singing hell and damnation all day long. They can’t, however, grasp the idea of themselves ever moving, either up or in any other direction.
Then, one day, one of the boulders receives a transmission, or maybe it is just a dream. In any case, in this vision there is a flying machine. It has wings. It soars slowly up and over a hill. The boulder cannot grasp any of these things, and it is frightened. Then there is a solar flare, hell and damnation, and the vision is no more.
VegeScan
Elijah nagged us the whole way.
Throughout the flight from Earth he yammered and chattered and gabbled and nattered about his VegeScan, about how it was an unbelievable bargain at the Duty Free, about how he won’t be fooled again, about how he was now prepared for the whole shebang otherwise known as Life.
“ Nu ,” Schwartz said to him as the stewardess approached, food-tray in hand, “So where is this VegeScam of yours?”
“Vege
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