RED PLANET
Nothing could prepare me for the perfect reflection the red water held. I swear if I looked hard enough I could see Earth and its tiny tiny moon. I wasn't prepared for the excrutiating chase that was about to fall right on top of me either. The luminescent red clouds parted and a dusting brick colored smoke trail broke the beautiful colors in the reflection. I had just crossed the Red River, the first of three that I had named, and the smallest, or else crossing it would be a death sentence. MY hyper sleep on board the T-11 Azrael, a exploring spacecraft carrying 6 civilians, and 6 scientists, has lef tmy limbs weak and my head brackish and light in this planet's considerable gravity. Walking in wet clothes is like just taking a bath in concrete.
I darted for a stack of boulders. An overhang provided cover as the smoke settled revealing an edgeless and textured vessel. Its organic landing gear pierced the earth and set a shock to the rocks I laid under. Red dust fell on my face. I had to think quickly. My milky skin stood out in the planet’s uniform red expanse, even in the shadows. I sat in this envelope of death with my fate sealed in a poetic blood. My arms turned red from rubbing dry against the soft rocks. I urinated in a hole I dug with my foot, and dropped a chunk of rock the broke free from the wall. I stirred the disgusting pool of my artificially colored piss with my NASA issued boot with removed laces for fishing that caught jack shit. I stripped to my shorts and smeared my body from head to toe until my blues eyes were the only contest to the angry Redmen that lined the beach I arrived at. Two of them knelt to the ground and sniffed the red sand. I ran before I even thought about feeling confident that I could hide from these expert trackers. Their belts jingles with bones from their previous hunts as they chases me. Jessica and Swanson made excellent earings and necklaces and arrow tips. I made my way to a fallen tree, a species I had seen many times since my crash and raced up its rough and slippery branches. I let the tiny thorns tear my palms for grip and traction under my naked toes. I slipped near the top where a summit met a cluster of red exotic flowers that set off a chain reaction of new allergies. Nesting wildlife stared at me as I ripped through their homes. My trail had been lost. But they wouldn’t stop. I was the alien.
The hilltop I darted across with tight lungs resembled a three story building I scaled touring in Iraq as a Marine in the US Military. Balcony railings were wrapped in freshly washed clothes and blankets. Televisions with bad signal were ignored as families ran to the ledge to yell obscenities at me. Pots were knocked over at I scaled the last level to catch a glance at a sunset before disappearing to the next rooftop where I slipped into an abandoned apartment and waited out the gunfire. The only difference was the cold. The smell of stone and sand were nothing compared to the burning I felt in my throat. The water may have entered my system while swimming, or the pollen on the flowers could still be on my upper lip as I swiped away the horrible smell of my own urine. It worked. My body resembled a plastic Indian action figure I had when I was a child, the kind sold with opposing cowboys so boys could play war before they could even see death on TV.
I kept going. I ran and ran. My bones ached and my head pulsed with a crushing fear of death and exhaustion. I thought of my parents and how I left home after high school. They divorced just before my senior year, and lived closely in the same area for their remaining years. I regretted working in another part of the country, being so hard to visit on the time the Military allowed to visit. I should have left and enjoyed my life with them and my friends that I shared a past with. Every recruit I was teamed with had an excellent skill, but not much to relate to. Thank god I was put to sleep on my nine month journey through space or else I would have had plenty of time to accidentally make enemies. Good men and women, all. But now they were no more. Toothpicks and dissections. Better to have died in the crash than to be kept as dinnerware. I needed rest, I was feeling morbid and unmotivated.
I climbed inside of a honeycomb of large fossils beneath a massive tree’s roots. I slept silently will one ear up to the surface. Next to me a walking sting ray like critter rolled itself like a burrito, then unrolled with its belly up, and fast asleep.
When morning arrived I was surrounded my these round flippers. Millions of tiny feet jingle in the arriving sunlight. They seemed to like me and showed no threat. Some flipped back their bellies, some excreting red waste in the process. I noticed my urine paintings were patchy and faded. I made use of the fresh shit they were so kind enough to supply and re-coated my body before sticking my head up to the surface. Area clear, and I was smelly again. Now like old spaghetti. Not bad, as I was sure this entirely red planet was full of other options.
I darted for a stack of boulders. An overhang provided cover as the smoke settled revealing an edgeless and textured vessel. Its organic landing gear pierced the earth and set a shock to the rocks I laid under. Red dust fell on my face. I had to think quickly. My milky skin stood out in the planet’s uniform red expanse, even in the shadows. I sat in this envelope of death with my fate sealed in a poetic blood. My arms turned red from rubbing dry against the soft rocks. I urinated in a hole I dug with my foot, and dropped a chunk of rock the broke free from the wall. I stirred the disgusting pool of my artificially colored piss with my NASA issued boot with removed laces for fishing that caught jack shit. I stripped to my shorts and smeared my body from head to toe until my blues eyes were the only contest to the angry Redmen that lined the beach I arrived at. Two of them knelt to the ground and sniffed the red sand. I ran before I even thought about feeling confident that I could hide from these expert trackers. Their belts jingles with bones from their previous hunts as they chases me. Jessica and Swanson made excellent earings and necklaces and arrow tips. I made my way to a fallen tree, a species I had seen many times since my crash and raced up its rough and slippery branches. I let the tiny thorns tear my palms for grip and traction under my naked toes. I slipped near the top where a summit met a cluster of red exotic flowers that set off a chain reaction of new allergies. Nesting wildlife stared at me as I ripped through their homes. My trail had been lost. But they wouldn’t stop. I was the alien.
The hilltop I darted across with tight lungs resembled a three story building I scaled touring in Iraq as a Marine in the US Military. Balcony railings were wrapped in freshly washed clothes and blankets. Televisions with bad signal were ignored as families ran to the ledge to yell obscenities at me. Pots were knocked over at I scaled the last level to catch a glance at a sunset before disappearing to the next rooftop where I slipped into an abandoned apartment and waited out the gunfire. The only difference was the cold. The smell of stone and sand were nothing compared to the burning I felt in my throat. The water may have entered my system while swimming, or the pollen on the flowers could still be on my upper lip as I swiped away the horrible smell of my own urine. It worked. My body resembled a plastic Indian action figure I had when I was a child, the kind sold with opposing cowboys so boys could play war before they could even see death on TV.
I kept going. I ran and ran. My bones ached and my head pulsed with a crushing fear of death and exhaustion. I thought of my parents and how I left home after high school. They divorced just before my senior year, and lived closely in the same area for their remaining years. I regretted working in another part of the country, being so hard to visit on the time the Military allowed to visit. I should have left and enjoyed my life with them and my friends that I shared a past with. Every recruit I was teamed with had an excellent skill, but not much to relate to. Thank god I was put to sleep on my nine month journey through space or else I would have had plenty of time to accidentally make enemies. Good men and women, all. But now they were no more. Toothpicks and dissections. Better to have died in the crash than to be kept as dinnerware. I needed rest, I was feeling morbid and unmotivated.
I climbed inside of a honeycomb of large fossils beneath a massive tree’s roots. I slept silently will one ear up to the surface. Next to me a walking sting ray like critter rolled itself like a burrito, then unrolled with its belly up, and fast asleep.
When morning arrived I was surrounded my these round flippers. Millions of tiny feet jingle in the arriving sunlight. They seemed to like me and showed no threat. Some flipped back their bellies, some excreting red waste in the process. I noticed my urine paintings were patchy and faded. I made use of the fresh shit they were so kind enough to supply and re-coated my body before sticking my head up to the surface. Area clear, and I was smelly again. Now like old spaghetti. Not bad, as I was sure this entirely red planet was full of other options.