April 15, 2019
Here I am, arriving on the moon drenched in water (don’t ask, we’ll get to that) when I see someone crawl out of a painting. The first thing in my mind: well that’s something you don’t see every day.
A person just contorting their way between the frame of a painting, and landing nigh flat, in nigh perfect balance. In. High. Heels. It was a miracle she didn’t stumble. Hell, I don’t know how women do it.
She looks at me, as I’m drenched in water, and asks, “So, guess you didn’t know about the painting trick huh?”
“I prefer going for a swim, personally.”
“What route did you take?”
The Train Station
The Local Starbucks
The Great Pyramid
“The local pond.”
She suppresses a laugh, and says “You’re kidding” as she gives me the most quizzical expression with her hands on her hips.
“Just like it sounds. I figured out you can get to the moon through the local pond. It’s a stargate in disguise, so easy to hide.”
“Figures. You learn something new every day I guess.”
“Anyways, so – “ I was about to ask…
“Don’t ask,” was the curt reply.
“Fine, I won’t.”
A minute passed by as we just took in the vast expanse of space.
“What are you thinking about?” she inquired.
“And I quote, ‘don’t ask’”
“Why do you have to be so rude?”
“Says the Ice Queen,”
“Hey water works, shut it,” she snapped off.
“I was just giving you a dose of – “
I was cut off by a slow raising of ‘the finger’. No, no, no, not the middle finger. The international “Shut the f@#$ up sign” index finger. My hands raised in resignation and I gave in.
“Fine” I said.
Tens minutes later…
“So – “ Instantly couldn’t resist.
“You know I’m going to ask.“
“Fine, get it over with,” she finally gave in.
But I just started off into space.
Turning her head slowly at an angle, she glares at me impatient. Very impatient.
“Well aren’t you going to ask?”
I just nod slowly over the horizon. She glances left, and we just stare in awe.
She eagerly quotes, “Well that’s not something you see every day.”
“Wait. Wait. Wait.” How did you know I said that? I never said that out loud.”
“I have my ways.”
“Oh really? Is that so?” my curiosity replied.
The nod was slow, ever so. We still glanced over the horizon, amazed at what was taking place right before our eyes.
“We should take a picture of that,” she said in awe.
She begins taking out her camera, and I hurl frigid water straight from a bucket. And she’s drenched head to toe, and she’s pissed.
“How did – “
“I have my ways,” I said as I bolted towards the stargate.
“Hey! Where you going!?”
My voice is trailing off as I yell, “Someone’s going fishing with explosives, and if I don’t make it out now then I’ll be stuck here. C-ya!” was my reply as I ran for my life.
As I’m about jump through the Stargate, at nanoslowness, the gate disintegrates and I end up crashing like superman headfirst into dust. Now I was drenched in water and covered and dust. She loved that. She was reveling in it.
“Don’t you gotta go somewhere,” I snapped off.
“No no no, this is good,” she said hysterically.
“Not as funny as your ticket back home.”
“What….” She echoed slowly craning her head backwards.
Her eyes widened as the painting’s a blazing inferno.
Dropping her shoulders in resignation she says, “I guess we’re stuck here.”
“You started it,” I smirked.
“Well played,” she replied.
“I guess we’re stuck here until someone else comes along through another one of the unknown paths.
Staring into the horizon for minutes, she asks “Well aren’t you going to ask?”
“Nah,” I replied promptly.
“Why not?” she replied sadly.
“No no no, don’t get sad. We’re going to be here a long time, questions can wait. But that view though, just look at the Earth. Are we ever going to see a view that amazing of it ever again?”
“Hopefully. But I get what you mean.”
“I wish I could paint that.”
“Oh you mean like this?” she says as she motioned to the side a full painting, an exact replica of what we were seeing.
“That was neat though. I haven’t learned that one before.”
“Hey genius,” she replies with enough sarcasm to walk all the way to the Earth, “why don’t you take your own advice on imagination?”
I raise the finger, ever, so, slowly.
She says not another word for nigh an hour. We just started ever-perplexed at the same object that had shimmered out of nowhere previously.
“Wanna take a selfie?”
“Ugh. I don’t do selfies.”
She merely narrowed her eyes.
“Fine fine fine, we’ll do it your way this time. But only on one condition.”
“That we get to use that thing over there,” I nodded, “as the background.”
“Because nobody on Earth is going to believe the picture is real, and that just makes it that much more fun.”
“Yeah, because they’re totally going to believe us being on the Moon without that thing. Totally legit.”
“Hey smart ass, just roll with it okay.”
“Okay okay fine,” she replied.
Taking her phone out of her water-dripping purse, she was readying the camera for the selfie when –
– I snapped my fingers and disappeared in a puff of smoke, as a note drifted slowly thereafter.
Picking up the note, she laughs, puts it in her purse, and stomps her stiletto on the ground and vanishes.
Waking up from having my face buried in a book, I yawn ever so slowly.
While I’m stretching waking up, I realize there is a note folded within the book I just woke up from.
Laughing, I put the note away, and make a paper airplane after writing two lines it, and aim it softly at the closest painting as the plane vanishes out of sight. The kid’s eyes next to me got enormous while I mouth “Shhhhhhh.”
The kid smiles, and he starts making a paper airplane. As he’s about to launch it, I close the book and the bell rings.
I have to get back to class.
This post was totally unplanned until nigh an hour go or so. I read a post from someone that spoke about the Moon. That story reminded me of the post I wrote a bit ago called “Have You Ever Walked On The Moon?” More importantly, the post was inspiring, and this was what I wrote off the cuff. My mind is still total mush, so hope it makes some semblance of sense.
Lastly, the kid in the story is merely to serve that imagination is contagious, just like what happened with me right now. You’ll never know how the smallest of circumstances will stoke the embers of someone’s imaginations.
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About The Author:
Zy Marquiez is an avid book reviewer, inquirer, an open-minded skeptic, yogi, and freelance writer who aims at empowering individuals while also studying and regularly mirroring subjects like Consciousness, Education, Creativity, The Individual, Ancient History & Ancient Civilizations, Forbidden Archaeology, Big Pharma, Alternative Health, Space, Geoengineering, Social Engineering, Propaganda, and much more.