New morning

One summer in north Texas, the days were hot. Rain clouds would disintegrate into thin wisps each late afternoon. From his porch—here in the country—Mat could smell the cries of parched earth anticipating relief but getting none. Mat was the cause, he knew it.

Mat had fallen to his knees once to keep things from getting worse.

One night Mat was jolted awake at 3:06 am. The Ute Indian statue in his room looked curiously and amusedly at him. Everything was important these days, even waking up. Mat got dressed, and five minutes later he felt the spirit in his house guide him: a brush of wind against his side moved him towards the front door. Mat took a long breath—breeze at his back—and stepped outside.

The wind outside took over for the spirit and swirled upward and around him.

A long walk—furious and dutiful—followed. Each direction was instructed, and each step was performed with Mat’s typical act of piety.

He was led to the road outside the property, and approaching a neighbor’s ranch—

begrudgingly, dutifully—he saw the barbed wire fence.

Mat hopped the fence. The breeze returned to his back, stronger than before. Mat was a little scared—mostly mindful of the land owners and guns—but moved forward. Immediately, a bold, beautiful but utilitarian alien spacecraft—dark and then aflame in

green fluorescence—lifted itself from the ground. Mat felt a deep nudge within the front of his brain, and a message rang in his mind.

“You are here. We wanted you to come, but commitment is unforeseeable.”

Mat stood still. He tried to communicate back to the voice he was interpreting. It spoke again.

“Choose between this world and a future away from it.”

“You are telling me that you are going to end our world?” Mat said.

The alien spoke to Mat inside of his brain: “Yes. We, or you. You are strong: an aberration, but one admired. You should leave with us now.”

Mat thought about all of the destruction on this planet. What a gift, he thought, being respected and able to leave. The trusted wind blew against his face now. The planet made its message clear to Mat.

He backed away from the craft and turning and then moving quickly, went back towards his property. He looked over his shoulder as he walked briskly away, and saw that the craft had disappeared. Mat returned home. The Pleides constellation shown distinctly in the southern sky.

“I choose this planet,” Mat said aloud. The wind rapturously swept around him. The trees were blown, given a voice: applauding.

Mat returned home and saw the Ute sculpture looking at him with a wide-eyed optimism. Maybe for once, Mat knew more than he. Tomorrow his strong feet would follow his will for change.