To Leave This World
By David OppegaardWe are all waiting to leave this world. We have purchased four industrial-sizedspotlights, the kind they signal Batman with in the movies, and we have placed them atthe four corners of our stargazing field. The spotlights are aimed so that their beamsintertwine high above us in one stunning tower of white light that seems to go on forever,all the way into the deepest pockets of space. The highway that runs by our compoundhas a steady stream of traffic and every night at least two or three vehicles turn off ontoour little access road, their tires spinning on the loose gravel as they rumble towards us,always moving too fast for the lumpy road. When the access road ends they continue onfoot, their eyes wide as their chins tilt up. They ask us in murmuring tones why we have built the tower of light, what its purpose is.“We are waiting,” we tell the newcomers. “We have friends from a distant place,and this is our version of leaving a porch light on.”Usually this sends the person, or persons, power walking back to their vehicle.But since this is California, and some people here still have an open mind, hungry for anew consciousness, not everyone takes off right away. Some stay and ask questions.They learn of our leader’s vision, of his astral connection to a friendly, sentient speciesliving ten million light years away. They also learn that members of this distant speciesare already on their way to make contact with us, to perhaps even take us home withthem. If these facts do not frighten the newcomers away, either, if by the end of our announcement they are still sitting with us and smiling naturally, then we may have anew member on our hands, and our hearts fill with the joy of conversion.