A Shadow Becomes

A Shadow Becomes

by Mike Pollock

So, here we are... war again. My old man used to tell me bout times when there was no war. People didn't shoot each other cuz' they looked different, or thought different... fuck, even smelled different.

Then again, my old man told me about squishy yellow cakes, filled to burstin' with sweet creams. Said you could buy em' at all kinds of stores. You know what I never seen? Stores full of candy and snacks. I never seen a restaurant, and my old man loved talkin' bout them. Men with puffy hats and sharp knives, he'd say. Sometimes they cooked in front of you!

Hell, I don't see what's so exciting about someone cookin' in front of you. I don't think I'd pay for that.

Anyhow, I thought I'd tell you a little bit about how I got here before I told ya where I was. Not sure this bears explainin' but in case somewhere in the world ain't fucked up, we'll start at the beginning.

Bout 40 years ago, a full twenty five 'fore I was born was when the Shadows first showed up. I thought they was demons, and I wasn't the only one. Others said they were just ghosts or aliens. We all ran, fast as we could. Hopped in our cars and took off to the country. My old man figured that if it was ghosts or demons, there'd be less of em' in the country.

The crazy lot that stayed, they told us it was cuz they were meant to be worshiped. Some fucked up old testament stuff, naked folks running around fires, asking for some devil to come and save em'.

Needless to say, they didn't make it too long. There was a few days while those crazies danced, and drank, and fucked, and partied thinking these flickering Shadows were comin' to save 'em. When they stopped flickering and stayed? Well.. we didn't.

I've been back there, a few times actually. Only at night, but that should be obvious to everyone at this point. So those folks that stayed in the first days? I found em still there... standing, sitting, sleeping, hell… taking a shit. Whatever they were doing when the sun hit 'em was the last thing they ever did. They never moved again, like some creepy, fucked up wax museum managed to suck out their souls for a quick exhibit.

They got my old man not long after that first night. We was draggin' some supplies back to where we were stayin' and he got stuck outside when the sun came up. We found him that night still standin' there, rope slung over his shoulder and look of determination on his face.

That was probably the last time I ever cried. Don't know why, but when I stopped, I knew I couldn't anymore. We lost a lot after that. Took us a while to figure out that it was somethin' about a foundation in the homes we were in during the day that kept em from getting us.

No, we weren't smarter than the statues... Just a hell of a lot luckier.