Ficlets

Sometimes, in the very earliest hours of the morning, just after today turns into tomorrow, you can hear it. It sneaks its way into the human consciousness through the waves of AM radio. If you listen, it will sound like silence, at first. But then the signal slowly gets stronger until it sounds like your own heartbeat boiling through your ears, drilling its way into your brain.

You won’t recognize it for what it is, because nobody on Earth ever does. Ever has. You will change the channel, perhaps blast some loud music to wash the sound out of your ears. Except, once you have heard it, you can never completely wash the sound out of your ears.

You hear it faintly under everything, until it becomes such a part of you that you no longer notice it. It feels like the beat of cars over the interstate. It feels as familiar as breathing after a while.

Except, it isn’t. It is not familiar, and nothing about it is natural or normal. It is an interstellar cry for help.

This is the pulse of the universe.