We sat on the beach staring out at the moon. I was still a bit shaken up over seeing the accident, but found the tranquil sound of the surf to be quite relaxing.
“How many drops of water do you see out there?” Iman tipped his nose to the Gulf of Mexico.
“Quite a few, I suppose.”
He shook his head. “You don’t see any drops of water. It’s one big body of water. It has waves and currents and other components of life and motion, but it’s basically just one body of water, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Two thirds of the earth’s face are covered with water,” he said. “The remaining dry places are peopled with beings comprised
of 95% water. The whole planet is just one big body of water moving pebbles around a rock.”
“It’s a little more complex than that.”
“Actually, it’s much simpler than that, but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet. You people don’t realize it, but the entire universe is but One universe. An entire planet is but One planet. An entire country but One country. An entire race but One race. An entire person but One person. An entire thought, but One thought.”
“And that’s where it all begins,” I interjected.
He stopped and looked at me. His oblong head moved slowly, so slowly that I hardly noticed the movement before he trapped me in an incandescent gaze.
“An entire soul, but One soul. An entire spirit but One spirit.”
He looked off into the surf, and I followed his gaze over the white sands that glowed in the light of the full moon. As our eyes landed on the pearly white orb, surrealism reached an all time peak.
“An entire God, but One God.”
And the moon winked.
“Did you see that?”
“Did I see what?” Yewell smiled, his thin lips curling up over a toothless grin. He looked kind of like Lyle Lovett with a shaved head.
“The moon, it winked.”
“Yes. It does that sometimes.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Didn’t you just see it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, there you go.”
“Wait a minute.”
“I think I feel like a walk.”
Yewell stood up without a grunt. He didn’t bother to brush the sand off of his backside as he strode to the shore I had to trot a bit to keep up with him, his long legs taking two steps to my four. When he got to the shore, he stopped on a sand dollar and took a deep breath.
“Lungs are great.”
“You say that like you’ve never had them before.”
“Well, it’s been awhile. I only get to use them when I come to earth.”
“Where do you keep them when you’re not using them?”
“Next to my bowling ball, where do you keep yours?”
He chuckled and followed the shore north.
“Why did the moon wink?”
“It does it at least once a month. Haven’t you ever seen the moon go Full and New again?”
“That’s not exactly a wink. A wink is in an instant.”
“How long does that take?”
“You know, like that.”
I raised my hand to snap my finger. Quicker than I could notice, Yewell had a grip on my wrist and my hand went numb. The wind stopped. The ocean shushed. The world went silent as time slowed to a crawl. A drawn out friction of fingerprints reverberated along the beach as my finger crawled its way across my thumb to snapdom.
“You place so much importance on time,” he said. “It’s a shame you don’t use it more wisely.”
When the snap finally reached its climax, Yewell winked and let go of my hand. The wind picked up and the shoreline shushed back.
I looked at my hand to ensure that my fingers worked properly at normal speed and followed him down the beach.
“You humans spend so much time trying to shore up your own personal securities,” he continued. “One of these days you’re going to realize that you are all One.”
This is an excerpt from How to Survive an Estralarian Mind Meld. Come back weekly for the next part or order your copy in ebook or paperback today!