Fragments: A Collection of Thoughts, Poems & Proses

discovery

My first Discovery imaginative response! Drafted 6/11/16

It had three pairs of hands and feet.

Or...tentacles.

Tentacles!

A sudden, unconscious gasp escaped from his chapped lips as he trembled at the sight of the peculiar thing on his hands. The thick layer of transparent slime - presumably its torn amniotic sac - slid through the gaps of his rough fingers, dripping onto the sand. The faint moist that formed on the centre of his spectacles caused by his shuddering deep breaths gave him a difficult sight, but it was clear enough to let him know that it was alive.

Yet it was not breathing - neither its flat nose nor its small mouth resembling a human infant's did not move at all. From its glossy head sprouted slick tentacles like hair and its fragile skin of solid gel was as dark as wet wood. He caught his tiny reflection on its big, tar black eyes that stared intently at him - as if it was the one watching him instead.

A tremendous amount of fear shook him - if they found out, he knew the consequences. It would not just risk his century-old house that was passed down from four generations to his or his decades worth of research on the Big Foot and the Australian Slenderman - but his life, as well. However, it struck him that his career and his possessions were far more valuable to him than his own existence.

Suddenly, as if it can sense his thoughts, it moved. One of its right tentacles, ever so slowly, tried to reach the gap between it and his face. Instinctively, he gently transferred the light creature on one hand and let his free one slightly pinch the end of the slippery, wet tentacle. As if on queue, its tentacle grazed on the surface of his skin before it finally enwrapped on his index finger. Eyes widening in amazement, he thought, Bloody hell! It's trying to communicate with me!

They did not have to know. He could just keep it - make sure it was safe and out of contact. Keep it until it's grown and able to fend for itself. Probably release it in the wild or seek its own kind to return it from where it truly belongs. It would never have to undergo the horrifying trials or the cruel experiments they allegedly use with extraterrestrial life.

But...what was a Foreigner doing in the middle of the Great Victorian desert?

-

"Good God, you're a pretty hungry fella today, aren't you?"

Usually, it would grunt in reply. But today, it only focused on feeding itself the carcasses of the indistinguishable skinned, animals he brought for the carnivorous creature. Tentacles tightly latched unto the prey, its loud, sloppy, chewing and gulping noises surrounded the house. For a Foreigner that has reached its full growth capacity, his massive appetite was very reasonable.

"I guess wrestling with that camel and a family of rabbits was worth it. But don't eat too much - we still have to eat for supper."

Exhausted, he sat down at his favourite rocking chair where a patch of light escaped from the broken window. Like a routine, he simply watched the creature he raised for two years.

A knock on the door startled him

Unfinished