Atmospheric Echoes

     I was traveling to Newark when I heard the first reports of the unidentified aerial phenomenon. Strange visions in the sky – coming from major metropolitan centers. I’d been on the bus for six hours and I still had two more hours to go. A long trip toward what? Work or consolation? I would have taken whatever was available. Starting over was starting over.

    In the early days of saucer sightings (Ezekiel 1, 2 Kings 2) there were numerous cases of a UFO or other UAP causing anxiety among the saints, far from home. Lonely. This happens far less often today – with advanced technology and complete memory recovery systems. Radar and full restoration still being perfected. Reports this week of shooting objects in the sky over Beijing. Random images maybe, but the reports made something of them.

    “Marvel not at these atmospheric echoes,” came a voice.

    I stared out the window at the lights in the distance and counted the minutes. How long had it been since… How long would it be until… These were calculations I couldn’t complete. I no longer understood the calculus of human interaction. Addition became division and she was gone.

    UFOs often create electrical force disturbance affecting not only people and animals but sophisticated electronics as well. Injury and short circuits. Rashes. Burns. Depression. Sleeplessness. Heartburn. Aerial sickness. Even radiation poisoning requiring prolonged hospitalization. Death and hell. Extremely dangerous. Technological overload. God and technology reversed and reordered. This could kill you in two to three days and, what is worse, corrupt the data. Context requires more detail, of course (160 GB – do not exceed capacity).

    “What it carries can give you new purpose in life,” came the voice again.

    I dug in my rucksack for my notebook. My notes. Conversational sketches. Character outlines. Parents and stuff. Histories and obscure words forgotten. With pen and paper I could write anywhere. Low-tech. Simple. At home (home no longer), on the bus (for another hour), in Newark. Put down the words, any words, all the words. Order would come later.

    In March of 1978 a man from Beijing reported a secret rapture – not preceding (better than “preventing” as the KJV has it) a “beam of light.” Hit me. Hit me. A hit waiting to happen. In 1977 a dog died in Salto Uruguay. Coincidence? How many others were carried away and never seen again?

    “Rise now. Right now,” said the voice again. “All over the world the prospect of being taken to heaven rises higher and higher. Are you one of the chosen?”