The Alien

a visitation from space

The Alien

“How did it happen”? Asked Leslie the therapist.

Helen looked confused, disoriented. The last few night sleep escaped her. Thinking can do that to you, what’s more, it can create a pattern of habit where you can’t stop even when you want to. She looked at Leslie like a lost child.

 “I....I don’t know. Maybe I should start at the beginning.”  

Her voice hesitated between each word. A kind of darkness enveloped her eyes. “Yes. Why don’t you start there....at the beginning.” Leslie’s voice taking on an empathic timbre. 

“There was a strange beauty to all of it, said Helen. It’s voice echoed and it looked upon me as though I was some Helen of Troy. I remember it made a sound like, Iiyai......Iiya. It seemed to possess a baby like soothing quality. It’s movement danced in a gracefulness. I can’t tell you what it did to me. A feeling of excitement (can you imagine being the first person to see an alien from space) a feeling of peace and harmony. I really can’t explain how it influenced me but these were things I felt. I tried to be objective but it was simply impossible.”

She began to wonder why a deconstruction of the self was occurring before her eyes. She had lost élan, moreover, she lost a certain confidence and positive attitude that looked like early signs of her deconstruction. The ego faded and her sense of purpose was replaced with a desire to re- experience the alien. It’s all she thought.

 “Where... is it.... now”? Leslie asked. Helen’s voice trembled and the hesitation grew worse. 

“I’m still looking”. I said unsure whether we would really find it ever again. Those mysterious  movements, grace under fire, the alien was extraordinary. It seemed to read minds. Enter into one’s mind; influence endomorphs to secrete into the body and create a warm cozy feeling within the individual.  What occurred to Helen remained a mystery. The creatures influence remained but how? The blood work showed a significant decrease in endomorph production. How was it that she continued to be under its influence. It appeared that the influence possessed a love-like quality. Whether Helen understood what was happening was still unclear. 

“Why don’t you rest now. I’ll give you something to help you sleep.” Leslie interrupted.

“Yes, I’d like that. I need to sleep.” 

She snuggled into a fetal position, hummed a lull-la-by and in some way felt that the alien was present, going to sleep with her and that the song was her way of letting him know that she was waiting for him, waiting for it to come along so she could re-experience his influence. 

Reviews

[Alfred Kukitz]

Thanks PS for the correction. I'm sure you are right about a follow up but story writing doesn't move me like a poem.

Regards,
Al

[pstalbot]

In the middle of the "I'm still looking" paragraph you have a typo "What occurred to Helen remind a mystery."

I really enjoyed this story, I bet you could have a companion piece about longing for the addictive qualities of an alien whose presence has passed on to a far away place in space, and the "addict" is stranded on Earth without the technology to find it again.