Earthling and Other Flashes
by Christopher Jug George
That auburn moment in that 70s living room when the carpet matched the color of the light coming through the window and I thought, “I’m on a planet!?”
There is a ship that sailed the sea that became frozen in time. We all had to keep going, trudging through the seasons on our own. He used to take us everywhere.
The world was green that day. All of it. The sky, the sun , the houses, the people. I don’t know. Maybe it was just me.
The Man from the Thirties Standing on a Sidewalk in the Seventies
Standing on a crowded sidewalk, people rushed by and brushed his arms. His brown coat and green hat and brown pants looked like a spaceship sitting still on a planet that was only slightly different than the one he’d arrived from. It was a place so familiar. He was nearly knocked over a couple of times, he thought he might have hit the ground but his eyes could not waver from that place in the city. He had been there before.
It is Much More Immediate/ I Want Nothing to End
It used to be gazing at things from a distance that interested me most. Whether it be a person, a house, a tree, a town, a forest, a hillside, a river, a portion of the earth, moon, or sun through clouds. Whether it’s this life that has crashed behind me, looking like the movie Weekend. If you want to know what my life looks like to me, go watch Weekend. That’s not how I see the future though. No. That is tree lined country roads with spurts of fences near beautiful rivers, that is your little face, immediate, and looking up at me.
Half of This Night Is the Color of the Skin of a Dolphin in This Light
The rain ended in the middle of the street. You barely getting splattered with pouring rain making my hair shower wet and clothes as if I just crawled out of a lake. It was there that you said goodbye, walking away in the subtle glow of the street light in the yellow part of the world. You walked toward stairs and up them, your shoes finally disappearing just before the turquoise light had reached them.
The Other Half of the Circle is an Illusion
I peered into an empty room and imagined us all sitting there. There was a din in the air from plows and howling wind. There was a glow in the air between us. I pictured movement of legs, arms, and contorting laughing faces as the sun went down. It was late afternoon, soon it would be dark and no one would be leaving the house.
It Is the Same Vastness Everywhere We Go
The land is a ghost. It is not the special one. There is land 500 light years away. There are long views but no telephone polls. There is wind and rolling terrain. It is sometimes eerily flat there and often dark and light and dark and light. There are horizons, beautiful mornings, and forlorn evenings.
What Penny said to me Behind the Bushes
Our family will move away from this dwelling temporarily. All of our bodies will be in a vessel that will be hovering in the vicinity of 55 miles per hour most of the time because the pilot does not like to speed. The direction will change a lot. Our craft will sometimes travel in all directions and you may think that we are trying to throw you off or that we don’t know where we are going. Don’t be alarmed though, there is a place out there that I’m told we are headed. It is called Winona. It is pretty there I hear. There are rolling hills of green set against the rotating colors of the sky. There are other humans there who share our blood. It is approximately 1900 miles away. Picture our car as a blip on a sonar radar, soaring so far away that you will think it will never stop moving, but then you’ll see it stop for a period of time, and slowly come back to you.