Greta responded hesitantly, “No, I’ve never seen anything like that.”
Seymour was still struggling with what he was trying to describe. “Me either.”
Greta continued, “I don’t even understand what you’re saying.”
“I don’t either.” He glanced at her from the side, unsure about whether to continue. “I mean I’ve never seen anything like that before yesterday.”
They were walking up the same hill toward the spot where it happened.
“Try me again.” She had only known him for three months and although they occasionally hiked together, he did so much more regularly.
“It was brief. Maybe longer. But all of a sudden everything disappeared.” He became quiet. Their steps on the packed dirt punctuated the moment. “And there it was. Or wasn’t. The mask of the world was gone, revealing some kind of energy dimension behind it.”
The screech of a red-tailed hawk permeated the park’s California oaks and sagebrush. They walked in silence.
Greta eventually asked, “Were you drinking?”
Seymour scoffed. “No.”
“Were you tired? Did you feel OK?”
“I felt fine. In fact, quite good. It was dusk. Not yet night.”
“So, tell me again. What happened?”
Seymour didn’t answer right away. “We’re almost there.”
They reached the top and stopped to admire the view. The contrast between the park and the San Fernando Valley was captivating. All the distant streets, buildings, and cars jammed into a massive grid of mankind between opposing mountains. The city noise was a muted hum from their vantage, with a loud motorcycle and a siren the only discernable sounds that reached them through the urban glow of the setting sun.
Seymour continued. "Everything down there disappeared. There was nothing identifiable. Just a depth of energy. It was like being deep inside a black ocean filled with tiny, light-gold, pulsing particles."
Greta said nothing.
“At first I was kind of unnerved, but then I felt energized.”
She remained silent, absorbing the view.
“Then it was all back to normal.”
They stared into the valley.
Seymour was hopeful. “It may sound crazy but I’d like to see it again. I just don’t know how. It was like some kind of glitch in reality.”
While reflecting on the view and all he said she felt convinced he wasn’t making it up: Well, he’s not the strangest guy I’ve ever met. She finally responded. “I guess we’ll have to visit here more often.”
by George Alger
Visit the archive to see the latest or GeorgeAlger.com to see even more.
Enter your email below to join the readers of Liminal Stories.