Thursday, January 9, 2014


Future Life
By Jon Moray

Alex Bartow was riding the subway to his job downtown as a bank accountant. As most of the passengers were catching up on sleep, Alex passed the time reading a fantasy novel. His head was hidden behind a half-read book called “Future Life” when he was nudged by a passenger sitting beside him.
“Excuse me, does that book mention an alien life in the future?” asked a man, wearing a dark grey trench coat with wild wavy gray hair and sparkling deep blue eyes that rotated as if he was under hypnosis.
“If it does I haven’t gotten to that part yet,” said Alex, taken aback by the mans’ creepy demeanor. He returned back to his novel, distracted by the inquisition, and only pretended to read. He got off at the next stop, scaled the steps to the street and stepped lively towards the skyscraper where he worked.
Almost at his destination, he shuddered at the sudden cold feeling he was being followed. He spun around and noticed the creepy passenger a few feet behind him. Alex rushed towards the entrance and pushed through the revolving door when suddenly the velocity of the rotation spiraled into blinding speed. His body was about to go limp when the door gradually came to a stop. His eyes reoriented to a scrolling marquee on an auburn colored conical shaped building across the street.
Alex slowly stepped out onto the sand textured street among normal humans and colorful aliens with saucer shaped heads, contorted slender unclothed bodies and elongated oven mitt shaped hands and feet.
“Your stay here will be short and then it’s back to your time,” said the man in the trench coat. “The blue aliens can escort you in flight anywhere by the grasp of a hand. The green are information aliens that hold an encyclopedia of data from our planet and theirs. The red aliens assist the emergency responders with security and medical expertise.
Alex slowly nodded while mentally questioning his sanity. He walked about the future terrain and noticed pedestal stations of artifacts from planet Citurn that were situated on street corners and open vestibules into aqua and rose colored glass paned buildings. He continued further towards a park and saw a triangular shaped spaceship hovering twenty feet above the greens. Two blue aliens simultaneously escorted humans to and from an oval opening that glowed of a soft purple shade.
He gravitated toward the vessel, marveling at the high level of peace between the humans and aliens, while comparing differences from this Earth and the one he left. Trash dropped by pedestrians floated several feet in the air and evaporated before his eyes as if by illusion, emitted a winter fresh maple and ripe orange odor.
As he inched closer toward the craft, he noticed humans walking barefoot on the teal colored grass, vocally expressing their pleasure. Alex, learned certain nutrients added to the soil altered the color of the grass and provided therapy that traveled through the human body. Alex removed his oxfords, shuffled his feet on the grass and his lingering shoulder pain eased. He walked blissfully into the arms of a blue alien transporting him up to the ship. He suctioned through the mouth of the craft and into a ship that seemed endless in sight. A spectrum of colors slowly rotated around the perimeter as he encroached further in. Holograms of buttons floated within arms distance as each button displayed worlds of the Intergalactic Universe. Galaxy globes, languages and alien faces accompanied each narration of a world in which a particular button was pushed. Soothing unidentifiable sounds that echoed, provided a free flowing soundtrack that seem to vibrate through his body. Suddenly, a pull from the escort alien broke his aura of rapture and out of the saucer.
The escort alien continued his hold and lifted Alex hundreds of feet into the air, allowing him to survey the vast city and countryside beyond. They circled the area and then he was escorted back to the revolving door. Alex’s pleas for more time fell on deaf ears as he was forced into the entry and spun at blurring speed.
The door came to a stop and Alex, disoriented, stumbled out into his time and place, dropping his book in the process. While reaching to pick it up he noticed the words on the scrolling marquee were in a part of the book he had yet to read.

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Jon Moray has been writing short stories for five years and has been published in several online markets. When not working and being a devoted husband and father, he enjoys playing basketball and training for marathons.

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