The Sphere in the Sky

As I shut my eyes to listen to the gentle melody on the radio, I notice the sound of her footsteps. When I open my eyes again, she has moved closer to us. I've nicknamed her Big Betty. It's like a colossal metallic sphere gliding down to Earth. Quite a dramatic ending, don't you think? A massive alien spacecraft cruising on autopilot, heading straight for us.

"I baked muffins for us, the ones you enjoy," Janet, my wife, mentioned as she placed them on the stool in front of me. We sat on our balcony, savoring the city sounds and the anxious cries of people desperately trying to escape impending danger.

"The ones with those white chocolate chips," I replied, grabbing one for myself. I took a bite, and it was heavenly – warm, sweet, and savory. "Buttery, just the way I like it."

"I know. I made sure to add extra butter," Janet said, accompanied by a small finger gesture. She rested her head on my shoulder. "How much longer?"

"A day or two."

"So, is this it? Do you think it'll stop and move away?"

"I don't know."

Sirens wailed in the distance, followed by more frantic shouting. Smoke billowed from fires in the city, and the scent of burning reached us. I heard Janet whispering a prayer under her breath.

"Close my eyes…and I'll kiss you...tomorrow I'll miss you…" I hum the rest, feeling my eyes sting with a deep sadness. Tears well up, and I wipe them away. "Damn it."

"It's okay, honey. It's okay to cry," Janet whispers, kissing me on the ear. She gazes up at the giant sphere, strangely smiling. "Heaven is going to be bustling after today."

"What if there is no heaven?" I ask, realizing that the uncertainty of an afterlife has always troubled humankind, and many may be questioning their beliefs right now.

"On the other side of the Earth, those folks don't get to witness the impact. At least, I don't think," Janet says, nestling her head against my shoulder. "Or maybe we won't. I'd prefer that."

“The scientists on the TV said that the winds will be extreme before it makes impact. Really bad winds.” I look down, closing my eyes. I imagine the incoming storm. The death and carnage. The end of humanity.

“Don’t think about anything right now. There’s no point.” Janet says as she notices my contemplation.

I glance back up, fixing my gaze on the sphere. It catches my attention that there are now strips of light emanating from the alien object. Lights.

"LIGHTS! Look, Janet! There are lights coming from the sphere!" I exclaim, pointing upward. "There weren't lights before."

"No, there wasn't. What could it mean?"

"Aliens! I mean, it has to be aliens," I suggest.

"Wait... helicopters... do you hear that?"

Indeed, the sound of helicopter blades becomes audible, originating from somewhere in the city.

"You don't think..." Janet began speaking, but before she could continue, a deafening roar echoed from the sky, an intense soundwave that knocked both her and me over. The falling shattered glass made a distinct noise, and for a moment, I feared we had perished. However, I manage to rise from the ground and observe the shattered windows in the apartment building across from ours. Turning around, I confirm our own windows are broken. There are cuts on both her arms and mine, and little pieces of glass litter the balcony.

"What was that!" somebody shouted in the distance. I look up at the sphere. It's... moving away. At a great speed. As I gaze at Janet, I notice her attention is fixed on the sphere. It's only now that I become aware of the sound it's making, reminiscent of a train engine or a tornado.

"It's leaving! The aliens are leaving!" she exclaims, rushing inside while clutching her arms. The sting of the cuts on my arms starts to register. Looking around, I see blood scattered across the floor. The sounds of cheering and wailing from people nearby fill the air. The sphere gradually occupies less of the sky as it retreats into the cosmos, its loud engine noise diminishing.

I'm left wondering—who is controlling the sphere?

As I step into the apartment, the sound of running water permeates the air. Janet winces in discomfort as she extracts glass shards from her wounds. Observing her condition, I recommend heading to the emergency room.

"All the hospitals will be crowded. I'll use our med-kit," she insists.

"Let me assist, Janet."

"Okay."

As I examine her arm, I notice a few cuts that require cleaning and stitching. "You really need to go to the hospital, Janet."

"Well, so do you! And so does everyone right now!" Janet turns away, retrieving the med-kit from the medicine cabinet. She grabs alcohol pads and begins cleaning her wounds, gritting her teeth as she removes a piece of glass with tweezers.

"How I love you," I remark as she applies bandages over her cleaned wounds. "Always so independent."

"Let's go to the park," she suggests, "where you proposed."

"Why? We have glass to clean."

"Just in case this is truly the end. I want to be in a good place, with good memories."

"And the apartment? Just leave it wide open?"

"Jim! Let's just go!"

"Fine."

With a trembling hand, I attend to my wounds, laboriously removing shards of glass. Part of me yearns for the serenity of the park, yet another part resists this idea. The world is in chaos; if society crumbles, looters will target vulnerable places like our unguarded apartment. I grapple with a dilemma: what holds greater value to me, Janet's company or safeguarding our home?

I methodically dress my wounds to stave off infection, then close the medicine cabinet, confronting my reflection. A small, bloody cut mars my cheek. I meticulously cleanse it with soap and water, then apply a band-aid I find in the med-kit.

As we stroll to the park, I notice my car on the road, its windows smashed, possibly from the shockwave or maybe by looters. Right now, I can't be bothered much about my car. We walk for about fifteen minutes, chaos echoing around us. Despite the tumult, she appears serene, walking as if it were an ordinary day, and we hold hands. Both of us gaze ahead, purposefully avoiding looking at the ominous sphere. No matter what challenges come our way, we're determined to sit in the park where the hill offers a view of the neighborhood. There are only a few trees, and the sun will shine down on us.

We walk past deserted houses, ambulances scattered everywhere, and police cars speeding down the streets. Jets roar overhead, their loud boom overshadowed by the deafening sound of the sphere's engine. As we pass a group of men squabbling over a TV they looted from a home, we climb the steps to the park. The old concrete feels fragile beneath our feet. Glancing back, I observe the men resorting to physical violence – sadly, a predictable outcome in times of chaos.

Turning my attention forward, I notice the sphere, now much brighter. Helicopters appear to have crashed, with one burning in the distance. No sign of firefighters on the scene; they must be occupied elsewhere.

Upon reaching the top of the steps, we find ourselves on a hill that offers a view of the park's lower areas. Below, a playground is occupied by a group of drunken teenagers, surrounded by scattered little bottles. It's evident they've claimed this spot for themselves; no one else ventures near.

We follow the path that meanders through the park, aiming for a bench to rest on. Unfortunately, the first bench we come across is stained with vomit, a stark reminder of the chaos enveloping the city. Without much choice, we continue walking, hoping to find another bench that's in a cleaner state.

We discover a clean bench with a view of the cityscape enveloped in rising smoke. I can't help but wonder how many people are fleeing the city, unaware that the sphere is actually moving away. They must be scared, alone, and panicking, their emotions laid bare for all to see.

As we sit on the bench, occasional screams and yells punctuate the air. The alert system blares from people's cellphones and homes, raising concerns that something worse might be on the horizon. However, Janet quickly embraces me, providing a comforting reassurance.

Suddenly, a zapping sound reaches my ears. I turn around to find the sphere has disappeared, leaving only a clear blue sky. Janet turns to me with a smile, exclaiming, "We're not going to die."

"Yeah, unbelievable."

"I love you, Jim."

"I love you too, Janet."

"Shouldn't we be heading home?" she suddenly asks. "I mean, the glass needs to be cleaned."

"Ah, forget about it," I reply as I hold her close. "We have all the time in the world."