Meteors from Inner Space

 

My older sister Annette sat before her computer monitor. "See that, Harry?" she said, pointing to the monitor image of a YouTube video of the San Andreas fault in California.  "It's in critical state. We're doomed."


"Annette, you're letting the Sauvignon Blanc go to your head. That earthquake will take place long after we're dead and gone."

"Maybe. But what about this?"  She flipped to another YouTube video about meteors speeding in the direction of earth. "See what NASA has recorded? One of those meteors is bound to smash into us destroying every living creature on the planet."

"I give up, Annette. Go ahead. Lock yourself in the apartment. Me? I'm going out and have a few beers. I'll take my chances walking across the street."


I spent an alcohol-infused 2 hours at a British pub in Annette’s neighborhood. The pints I consumed at the pub emptied my wallet of paper currency. With little money left for transportation to my one-room hovel, I headed back to Annette’s place to flop out on her living room sofa. 


I stumbled into the park in front of Annette’s place, tripped, and fell flat on my face. I pushed myself upward and saw the two obelisks I always considered eyesores. The dark clouds moving overhead gave the impression the obelisks were tumbling over. I looked up at the crescent moon covered by broken black clouds. At that particular moment in time, an owl flying overhead made a precision bombing raid and splatted a direct hit on my forehead. Thank God! It wasn’t one of those meteors bound to destroy every living creature on the planet.



Location: Yokohama, Kanagawa, Japan

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Advice from a Friend

Image
  The sky was overcast and a cold breeze blew across the coffee shop’s patio. Derek was waiting for me outside the shop, reading a news magazine and unfazed by the cold.   “How’s the story going?” He looked over the magazine at me.    He was one of two people I could discuss my writing with. The other person was my second ex-wife, but she stopped talking to me after she got married again.   That day he seemed more interested in the news. Or maybe he was tired of listening to me complain about the story I was writing.   “Not going at all,” I said.   “Oh, what’s wrong?” He turned a page.   “My characters. Every time I get one scene done in which a character interacts with another, I run into a brick wall. How to move onto the next scene.”   “Oh, too bad. Did you know war has broken out in Sudan?”   “Uh, no. But as I was saying, Lydia . . . “   “Lydia? Who’s she?” He  sipped coffee from his mug.   “I told you before. The wife of Claude, the main character. Don’t you remember?”   He merel
Read more

The Sashimi Knife

Image
I The sashimi knife was of the Yanagiba type and dangerously sharp. Lydia bought the knife as part of her collection of kitchen knives. An adventurous cook, she ventured into Japanese cuisine almost as soon as we moved into our two-story house in Yokohama.   She learned from a sushi chef the correct way of slicing the fish in one smooth pull of the knife from its base to the tip. In time she was able to cut the maguro blocks we bought fresh from the fish market into thin slices effortlessly one slice after another. Lydia loved to cook and invited friends over for meals. Inevitably, after eating, the friends would praise Lydia culinary talents. “Claude, you’re so lucky to be married to Lydia. A superb cook. A gracious hostess. Charming. And, you lucky devil, attractive. Why, she could model for a fashion magazine.” I uttered the appropriate replies husbands give when hearing how wonderful their wives were. “Yeah, I guess I am lucky at that.” Of course, only I knew about her little idios
Read more

Echoes in a Dilapidated House

Image
  There is something about a dilapidated old house that fascinates me. I hear lingering memories echoing inside the rooms. The newly married couple discussing drape colors to match the living room’s decor. The baby in a crib crying for a mother’s breast. The husband uncorking a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to serve to dinner guests. The mother working away on a report whose deadline fast approaches while her toddler daughter attempts to climb up a bookcase. The little five-year old boy staring in bewilderment when his mother introduces his ‘new daddy’. The sorrow at the dinner table when everyone remembers the good times with Grand Dad who died in his sleep. The weepiness of parents as they watch their children leave the home to start careers and marriages of their own. The joy expressed by parents when their daughter has given birth to their first grandchild. Finally, life comes to an end inside the house. The engines of heavy equipment swallow up the lingering remains of the echoes a
Read more