My Life as a Space-Time Traveler: - Albereez (snow like ashes .TXT) 📗

here or there
So soft is it's down
On my carbonic scales
The universe awaits the calls
of the astral whales
I dream a dream of the arrograuts
Their mighty echos roar
Though distant from the Earth
I yearn for them more and more
But I am in a strange land
far away in space and time
I met this pretty human being
I hope to make her mine
Lost and hungry
she was great to meet
but now i hope to consume her
like my other wives, I eat
Till I awake anew
under emerald sky
Never stop to question
Where I am and why

"Wake up, Hethro!" I hear Petunia calling me through the haze of a dream. My eyes peel slowly open like butterfly wings soaking the sun. For a moment, I am disoriented. Still encased in my vertical cocoon sack, I writhe with such force that both casing and I fall to the floor in a spectacular tangle.
"Stop moving or I won't be able to free you from the shahyla," Petunia voices across the shmoo-like material. And then I see the light. Or rather, it sees me. My corneas siphon the gamma and infrared waves of the seth pouring into the overhead portal, and a cool teal color fills my sight.
"What a beautiful light spectrum you have on this planet, Princess! It's like I'm swimming in a sea of alpha algae." I say.
"Yes the light of quaz can be quite spectactular this time of the axial rotation of the cyrus around the seth. The elliptical nature of the planet's crustal transformation allows the seth's light to disperse off the crystalline-lattice composition of our third gorp rendering the sky various shades of green."
"Tell me. Is a gorp a lunar body resembling a small planet that orbits Cyrus?"
"Point-blank, my friend. Shall we quench our wanderlust now or tour the Darthow cavity first?" Petunia asks with a minor trace of petulance to her voice.
"I'd love to be shown around a bit. But first, my photovoltaic spinal sensors need scrubbing. May I clean them with something?"
Petunia deftly reaches around my body and extracts a scrubber from a cubby-hole by my shoulders and hands it to me."Try this. It's sphome: 93% organic, with 7% sulfur dioxidace for that hard-to-clean shine." she says to me with a grin.

...

After purifying myself, we immediately head out into the city. Our transportation is another one of those lovable shmoos parked out by the side of the hut. 'These really are fascinating creatures' I thought to myself as we galloped deep into the burroughs of Darthrow. Their orangutan faces resemble my third aunt 8 times removed, and their elephantine mass is a wonder of nature. This lovable shmoo is producing the exquisite musky odors of the terracox tasties I ate yesterday. That's probably what they feast on.' My thoughts drift along with the lumbering ride.
As far as I can see, there are various edifices of Styrofoam and clay, all more unusual than the next. One building before me is carved in the form of a perfect sphere with 12 protrusions at symmetrical angles to one another. Petunia informs me that the 'windows' not only serve as light portals but that they also allow the light photons to interact with the gelatinous material of the refreshing dravidya pools resulting in bio-thermal rejuvenation. Several citizens moving along through the city's many corridors freeze their movements as we come across their field of vision and gasp in surprise at seeing me. It doesn't phase me, however, and I continue to admire the scenery of this unusual civilization.
The strobe lights of yesterday are no longer flashing from the portals of the buildings although the boom of drums resounds, always seemingly emanating from a great distance. "What's the significance of the noise that I hear?" I ask Petunia.
"That is the sound of the castro-carver's. We use them to mine parponium at the outskirts of the city." replies Petunia with an air of authority. "For nine of the ten quazzes of the periodical grak, these monolithic machines output 482 million cubits per quaz of parponium. We rely on the mineral as an irrigating reagent in the production of bio-synthetic produce. In other words, the rock helps us to sustain the agricultural viability of this planet. Without it we would have neither food nor building material for our oceanic enclaves."
I was lost by the time she got to speaking of 'irrigating reagents,' yet I kept my ears peeled for the symphonic sounds of nature. A cacophony of disharmonic Q-pitched vibrations graced the atmospheric medium. Too hard to discern their sources, I ignore them and continue to analyze what I can with my limited myopic vision. I can barely make out pink smoke in the distance rising up beyond the undulating hills.
I hear and experience many interesting aspects of life within the city tour. Petunia explains to me how people make an income, what the typical day is like for the average 'meacon' living on Cyrus, the forms of entertainment available etc. By random approximation, I imagine that it is the earth equivalent of early afternoon.
"Thanks a billion for the tour, Princess, but now it's high time we go on a different sort of adventure. I will take you to outer-space and beyond. We will travel across many millennial ages, experience the harrowing echos of arrograuts and burn across the whitewased vortexes of deep-sea hydrovents." With a nod of her pretty head she acquiesces and we quietly and quickly make our way out of the city after collecting my conversion board from her hut and purchasing a hypoplasmic deep-sea pressurized diving suit from the local grocery story.
Once out of Darthrow, we traveled for three hours by lovable shmoo across the windswept plateau known as Hegel's plain, down through the Afrotristle forest of semi-aquatic fern trees until we reached the mangroves of Helicon 6. An expansive beach of iridescent sand shimmered as far as the eye could see left and right, and the mangroves happened to be attached steadfast to the shoreline. The glimmer of purple frequency band light emitting from the sand was hurting my occipital cortex quite viciously so in great haste we mounted the Redline and took of into the murky depths at an alarming 780 nautical miles per second. The journey into the abyss was a quick one and before Petunia could drag more nitrox into her gullet from her regulator we were there: A rather tremendous vortex was before us. I had warned her during the journey across land that we would experience sudden and excruciating body turmoil as we flatlined across the killing horizon and then gravity-planed across the outgoing black hole's event horizon.
Down we go, gulping down deridium as we furiously raged towards the singularity with bicuspids, canines and auxiliary molars clenched together in vice-like grips from which only death could escape. At point zero we become one with anti-matter and a complete annihilation once again consumes our eternal cores. We make it into deep space at the speed of super-charged lightning as we are ejected from our point of exit: a supermassive blackhole.
I was more satisfied than I had ever been in my life --- even before the thought of consuming the Princess crosses my mind for a second time today. I have an adventure companion that I can experience life anew, and for this I was eternally grateful. Loneliness had vanished and had been replaced with a feeling too hard to express in words. But it was there. That warm feeling of completeness. This leg of the journey was over for us but our grand adventures had only just begun. Only time -- and space -- could tell where we were to head off to next!

THE END

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Publication Date: 02-26-2010

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Dedication:
To my wonderful wife, Pia