The Omen
Jebediah Magree sat tall in the metal seat of his ancient tractor as it chugged along, tilling his fields for the spring seeding. Even though the air outside still had the brisk snap of winter poking from the sides and underneath, Jeb rode the tractor in his t-shirt only, having sweated through all of the other layers he had started with as the dawn broke and the sun beat down.
Spring was a grand time to be alive. Even in his foulest of moods, Jeb had to admit that to himself. The promise of great things to come was all around. On the trees, the buds were taking their first hesitant green peeks from the sullen grey branches. Out of sight, the lonesome white noise of the chill winter winds was being pushed away by the advance gang of songbirds, returning from wherever it is they go in the winter to prepare everything for the arrival of the incessantly warbling mass majority in a few days. The calls of insects provided a mechanical sort of drone to the burgeoning cacophony/
Jeb felt the sun beginning to pink his scalp where his hair was thinning, so he stopped the tractor for a moment, rummaged in his rucksack until he found a baseball cap with the logo of a seed company on the crown and put it on.
As soon as the visor of the cap shaded his view, he watched as another darkness traveled across his fields, the sun being blocked out by some fast-moving clouds. Jeb quickly doused the sputtering good mood he had been working on, wondering if this turn of his luck was just going to be how this growing season was going to go for him.
He turned the tractor toward his barn, hoping to get there ahead of the rain. He turned to examine the clouds of the stormfront bearing down on him. Already, he sensed the animals and insects around him growing still. The quiet before the storm, they called it, whoever they were.
It was then that he saw that it wasn't storm clouds casting the shade over the land. It was a giant thing, a huge solid thing, growing noticeably larger with each passing moment as it seemed to fall to earth.
Well, what the... he thought to himself as whatever it was filled the sky above him, I bet THAT'S gonna fuck up the growing season.
And then it didn't matter anymore.
Jebediah Magree sat tall in the metal seat of his ancient tractor as it chugged along, tilling his fields for the spring seeding. Even though the air outside still had the brisk snap of winter poking from the sides and underneath, Jeb rode the tractor in his t-shirt only, having sweated through all of the other layers he had started with as the dawn broke and the sun beat down.
Spring was a grand time to be alive. Even in his foulest of moods, Jeb had to admit that to himself. The promise of great things to come was all around. On the trees, the buds were taking their first hesitant green peeks from the sullen grey branches. Out of sight, the lonesome white noise of the chill winter winds was being pushed away by the advance gang of songbirds, returning from wherever it is they go in the winter to prepare everything for the arrival of the incessantly warbling mass majority in a few days. The calls of insects provided a mechanical sort of drone to the burgeoning cacophony/
Jeb felt the sun beginning to pink his scalp where his hair was thinning, so he stopped the tractor for a moment, rummaged in his rucksack until he found a baseball cap with the logo of a seed company on the crown and put it on.
As soon as the visor of the cap shaded his view, he watched as another darkness traveled across his fields, the sun being blocked out by some fast-moving clouds. Jeb quickly doused the sputtering good mood he had been working on, wondering if this turn of his luck was just going to be how this growing season was going to go for him.
He turned the tractor toward his barn, hoping to get there ahead of the rain. He turned to examine the clouds of the stormfront bearing down on him. Already, he sensed the animals and insects around him growing still. The quiet before the storm, they called it, whoever they were.
It was then that he saw that it wasn't storm clouds casting the shade over the land. It was a giant thing, a huge solid thing, growing noticeably larger with each passing moment as it seemed to fall to earth.
Well, what the... he thought to himself as whatever it was filled the sky above him, I bet THAT'S gonna fuck up the growing season.
And then it didn't matter anymore.
I don't know what the hell it means either, before you ask. It just sort of popped up in my head the other day and wouldn't go away until I wrote it all down.
It was 42 dolphins?
'As God is my witness, I thought dolphins could fly...'