I was standing in the kitchen looking out the living room window at the mountains across the way. A portion of the mountain was barren of trees because it was covered with the loose crumbly black byproduct of coal mining. There were about three noticeable sections that we used to have fun slip-sliding down while getting lots of dirt in our shoes, if they managed to stay on and we managed to stay upright.
As I was looking at these mountains, the face of the mountains changed to the face of a raccoon. My sister Teresa and friend Rock were in the house and I called them to come look at the mountain. They did. They were like, okay. I said there was a face of a raccoon on the mountain. Rock said, I guess we were not meant to see it.
The three of us went outside and the day was clear, warm and the sky unusually bright, but soft.
As we looked up, we could see the sun with a sherbert orange tint but mostly translucent. Next to the sun was some sort of human craft that was attacking the sun by shooting flames at it. Of course we were wondering what the hell are these people up to now, kinda like Gil Scott Heron's, Whitey's On The Moon.
I'm now wondering why everybody is not outside looking at this and what is going on with all these signs.
In a clear day opposite twist to the move, The Mist, after a while the spacecraft began dropping bubbles that looked like the sun it was mimicking. Those delicious-looking fun-looking bubbles, when they reached the ground, became like large elastic water bubbles what moved across the ground, with purposeful intent, searching, seeking. People going about their routine were being encased and then floated to the mother-ship.
Of course we ran and hid in a storage shed as a bubble came close and partially entered. Me and my sister were up against the wall and I motioned for her to stay still and stay quiet. The bubble left and we realized the bubbles have no eyes to see, sorta like the Quiet Place movie. This flipped the logic of, you can run but you can't hide to, you can hide temporarily if you don't try to run too far, but sooner than later you're going to have to rely on your own god-given basic instincts to survive in a world of changing conditions.
After a while silence ensued and we assumed the “coast was clear. We ventured back outside and could see a long thick trail behind the spacecraft that had moved off into the distance. This dust was ground bones that settled on the earth like sifted flour. And then it began to rain.
