Tag: warning

Postcards: Ancient Mistakes

eskaftun

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IMage of the Chichen-Itza pyramid against a purple sky. A person climbs its steps.
Dear Kirk,
The UFO descended from a gorgeous sky—so fast!—until the whole pyramid was shadowed by its enormity. A loudspeaker spat crackly syllables belonging to no earth language, overlaid with a robotic, uncanny, emotionless second voice: “Payment on this structure is in arrears. The grace period of one millennium has been exceeded. Repossession will begin in 10… 9…” There must have been a lag, because before “8,” the whole giant pyramid shuddered up into the UFO, with us clinging to it for dear life. The aliens say they’ll only take us home if Earth pays what they owe, so… I’m guessing this is goodbye.
I always said I wanted to travel more!
Love,
May
Image of a statue head broken on the floor, looking gloomy.
Dear aspiring emperor, This lesson can only be learned too late: photos don’t steal souls, but sculpture does, embedding a piece of you in every pair of stone, plaster, or metal eyes. A heady rush at first, to be sure! Once, I looked over countless town squares across my empire. But statues topple even easier than empires. Now my many eyes behold middens, ruins, rioters with pickaxes. Yet I live on, perhaps forever, infamous, with nothing but my memories as I watch my works crumble. Yours in despair, Ozzie

Postcards From Unlikely Writers

eskaftun

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Watercolor image of a striped cat at the Colosseum.
Welcome, visitors!
Behind me, observe the ruins. Thanks to our help, humans built this colosseum shortly after we domesticated them. But it fell to ruin. Did ancient lions curse them while dying in pointless contests here? Purrhaps.
Humans built many more structures after losing this one. For centuries, they kept our bellies full enough, so despite their many failures we let them believe they ruled this planet. The last straw was a bird flu—humans let it kill many cats before our scientists took over. A simple tweak to the virus, spread by a grateful Avian Nation, eliminated humans once and for all. This ruin is a monument to their hubris—and to the fabled “belly scritches” our ancestors regretted losing.
Enjoy your visit,
Docent Tabitha
Image, from above, of overlapping multi-colored umbrellas.
Dear Festivalgoer,
You know what never gets old, even after eons? Ruining things. Some water drops enjoy freezing, making the big weird primates fall and crash their metal symbionts. Others are obsessed with erosion. Many like to flash mob, flooding things. To me, the greatest joy of all is to be cold rain. To streak at the speed of gravity, striking the tiny gap between clothes and bare neck, the little hole between umbrellas, the pair of upturned eyes. It makes every other part of the cycle worth it. Even boring ocean duty. Even percolating into coffee. Even flushing a toilet. Look out, I’m coming. And I’m bringing friends.
~Water Droplet #H20-99N0FU704SEA