As ink blots are interpreted differently by each viewer, so are the text blots from The RawShock Tales

 (#1) The Star Token

by

John P. Cater

Copyright 2006

Another disk! Walking through this morning’s city bustle to my desk at the New York Times, I counted 23. Yesterday there were only 22. Three days ago there were none. What’s happening out there? The small golden disks are so tempting and attractive I want to pick one up and inspect it, yet I have some innate fear of them.

            They’re appearing everywhere. Laying in the gutters and on sidewalks they look like golden coins of past generations. Nobody knows what they are or where they came from.

            I do know that over one hundred disks appeared yesterday in the Bronx and Queens, but they were mostly scooped up by passers by. Today’s television reports nearly one hundred people are missing in those boroughs. If only I could piece this together, I could make a story of it.

            “Hi, Mike. How was your weekend?” My cubicle partner entered examining a small object in his hand.

            “Fine, Julius. What’s that?”

            “Something I found out on the street. There are quite a few of them. Looks like a gold doubloon . . . but there’s nothing on it but a small star. Nothing else. Strange . . . .” He turned it over and over examining it closer with each motion.

            “Jules, how long ago did you pick that up?” My theory was beginning to gel but Julius was quickly disproving it.

            Julius glanced at his watch, “About an hour ago. Why?”

            Expecting him to disappear at any moment I warned, “You might want to be careful with that thing. Nobody knows what those are.” Julius put the disk in his pocket and sat at his desk.

            I started typing on my story: MYSTERIOUS DISKS FALL FROM SKY . . .

            Suddenly my cubicle was filled with crackling electricity followed by a bright blue flash and a hushed poof. I sat stunned, motionless. I turned to ask him if he was okay. Julius was gone!

            I frantically typed the first line: Do not pick them up! The phone on my desk rang interrupting this eerie occurrence. I jumped, knocking my coffee to the floor, and grasped the receiver before the second ring,. “Hello.”

            “Hi, hon. This must be our lucky day!” My wife’s voice sparkled.

            “Hi, babe. What’s up . . . I’m really busy right now.”

            “When I dropped Kevin off at school, we found two of these little gold coins. They may be worth something. I’m gonna list mine on eBay. If it sells, Kevin said he’d let me sell his, too.”

            “Oh my God, Karen! When did you find it?” My voice was shrieking.

            “About an hour ago. Isn’t it exciting?”

            “Did Kevin keep the one he found?”

            “Oh, yes. He wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

            “Listen, Karen . . .” Before I could finish, I heard the phone crackle with electricity. There was a loud bang as the receiver fell to the floor. “Karen . . . Karen? Are you there?” I was screaming so loud heads popped up from surrounding cubicles. Then I heard the muffled poof. I dropped my phone and started to run for the elevator. With each step of my right foot I heard a metallic clink on the tile floor. I looked down at my right foot and saw it! A small gold disk stuck to my shoe with a wad of gum in between. I looked at my watch: I had been here for almost an hour. I grabbed my shoe and began to frantically untie the lace. As I loosened the lace and tugged on the shoe, I felt dizzy and felt a loud crackling of electricity. Poof!

I’m now writing this story on a strange piece of paper-foil supplied by my captors. I’m crowded into a large room with at least a thousand other humans. We seem to be on a very large starship as I peer out the small windows. Earth is gone. I surmise the star on the token is an acronym: Slavery Transportation and Recruitment.

PEOPLE OF EARTH: DO NOT PICK THEM UP!