A place for thought.


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At the very bottom a purple blob of fur pushed itself into a crack between two rocks covered with barnacles and starfish. The starfish slowly inched their way away while the barnacles continued their existence pretending not to notice. He was not a creature of the sea; he could not naturally breathe in the cold, dark, salt water. He was not a creature of Earth and could not breathe naturally the air above the water either, but he made do not being a being that breathed. He absorbed. The water here and the air above held all the ingredients he needed to survive. So physically surviving was not a problem, but that did not mean survival was not a problem. He was a creature of constant communication; his kind were never without the touch, well almost never. When his spaceship, a worthy ship he had taken off automatic pilot on a whim, clipped the rock, which for no good reason had protruded out of the sea, at that point all communication with his kind had ceased. He reached out cautiously with his sensor field for other life and became aware of a bright orange starfish. He enveloped the starfish in a bubble of questioning until he found it’s central place of thought. The starfish thought in a startling different fashion! He tried to make sense of what he found. He searched data banks within his own massive storage facility until he found the word that represented what the starfish was trying to communicate: fear! The Starfish thought only of fear, wave upon wave of fear. The starfish’s fear motivated only one action and the starfish continued to inch away from the blob of purple fur that had intruded upon it’s home. He, the blue blob, sent a message of peace, he urged it to relax but he realized much of his communication was misunderstood by the starfish and he was only able to convince the animal to be slightly less frantic. The blob pushed itself more securely into the crack between two rocks and urged himself to relax without much more success. His body found the nutrients it needed, obtained the temperature that supported its internal functions. He stayed squeezed between the rocks as time passed around him. The starfish returned. The barnacles grew. Above the sea the seasons changed from summer to fall to winter and to spring but the ocean changed very little. The purple blob of fur almost gave up hope, and then he did. When all hope faded he filled an internal bladder with gas and floated to the surface of the sea, he floated with the kelp and foam from wave to wave, from day to day, until the water changed to sand. He pushed the points of his slenders into the coarse sand until the mass of his oval, purple fur covered blob of a body was held a foot above the sand by the four slenders he used as legs, the points of his slenders dug into the sand about four inches and made movement difficult. He pulled up one slender until the point cleared the sand, adjusted the angle of the slender and put it down six inches in front of him, he did this one at a time with each of his four slenders and with practice found he could move at a decent pace along the sand, next to the ocean. He moved along the beach, a purple fur covered blob with nowhere to go and without the constant communication he had always had with his own kind. He traveled in a slight curve, keeping the salt water close at his side, moving forward, or backward, or sidewise, he had no way to know but he continued which gave his life purpose and brought him back from his hopeless state. He felt, for the first time since his ship had clipped the rock that he might consider continuing as a life form.


Author: assumptionisfaith

david blankenship is the author of three books "Randolph W. Owens, missing on Bright Island" (a science fiction novel), "Herb" (a children's book), "Jack's second Life" (contemporary fiction) and several short stories. The books are for sale on Amazon's Kindle and published in paperback by Create Space.

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