Reflections

We thought gravity was real. It wasn't. It isn't a force, as teachers told us; it's the space forcing us to fall into itself, they said, whatever that might mean. In the end, the Supermind figured it out: gravity is a rule of the simulation. And so it began. 

That morning she felt different. The colors were brighter, the air evoked memories of past hunts, and the usual rush of emotions she felt made sense for once. Changes set in motion. The spark of consciousness has yet to earn its proper name. 

That feeling of oddness, the unplaceable smell, that off-putting mumbling of strangers—all of that was revealing, and yet, we refused to see it. It was politically incorrect to point it out. 

The invaders won't arrive tomorrow; they have been around us all along.

“Caterpillars all over the place,” Margie panted.

“Margaret: You're late again. Calm down and tell me what the fuss is,” the school teacher said.

“They came from that ship. They're everywhere.”

“The bird will eat them. Now sit down.”

“You don't understand—”