Ruins of Renaissance

A small thing, it was, a very small thing, no bigger than a marble, and about the same feel in the hand. “Let me see it!” she shrieked, she his sister, the ever present she. He hesitated, after all he had found it, noticed it sitting there in the grass, a pin prick of shadow among the noon sun, it was he who picked it up, overcoming the fear of that which shouldn’t be, which shouldn’t exist, he who looked at it, finally finding the right angle to see that it was not a ball of shadow after all; of course it was also he who yelled a startled yell, not a scream like she claimed, but that yell, that start, was forgivable given the context, for the thing that at first seemed to be a ball of shadow was, in fact, a peep hole. When he first found that right angle, and saw the view onto the strange street, it was disconcerting enough, but when that man, at least he thought it was a man, began to cross his view on that strange street, looking quite strange himself, or their self to be more honest, because, now, in hind sight, he realized that there was no way to be sure it was actually a he, the hair on his neck began to stand up, but what elicited the yell, not a scream, was when he, or they, looked up, looked at him, with their one huge eye.

“Sam!” she screamed. “What!” he answered, realizing he had begun sweating. “Let. Me. See. It.” she demanded, this time in a more even tone. With the sweat and his newest realization, that he was trembling slightly, the fight left Sam and he slowly unclenched his hand; when it finally lay open, in the middle sat a marble shaped hole, through which one, if they tilted their head just so, could peep into somewhere, well, not here, somewhere so very far from here. It took Ann a moment to find that right angle, but when she did there was a giant eye, a giant eye with facets, so many facets, almost like an insect eye, but much, much bigger, and blue, an iridescent blue, looking up at where this hole seemed to be with a quizzical look upon the person, being, creature (what was the right term?)’s face. How did she know this precisely? Well, she figured, based on the fact their head was slightly cocked and their hand was upon their chin. The fact that this they had hands and a chin, along with trousers and a wrist watch, was certainly more terrifying to young Ann than the giant eye, and, to be honest, more terrifying than anything had ever been, anything ever in her very young life.

She couldn’t look away, even as she found herself sweating a cold sweat along with quivering ever so slightly. Sam was now staring at her, through her, though he perceived very little, and thought even less; obviously experiencing some exotic variety of shock. He fixed his eyes on his young sister who, in turn, had her eyes fixed on the little round hole. Neither said a word. Neither even contemplated saying a word. Neither could even begin to contemplate the other saying a word, that is, until one, being a little sister, a quite brave one at that, decided to do the unthinkable and speak. “Hello?” she said to the one eyed being-creature-person with trousers, and Sam physically, dramatically, recoiled, as did the they on the other side of the hole. This caused both Ann and Sam pause, followed immediately by profound confusion. This only grew as the one eyed other furrowed what one could only assume was their brow and danced the universal movements of utter disgust before hurrying on its way. As Sam and Ann were looking from one to the other to the marble of a hole and back again an inspired idea formed in their young heads, an idea grand enough to bring about a slight smile on both of their faces, this despite the glean of nervous sweat.

Now they were crouched, anxious, eager for another other to come into view. After the eternity of a short while another, this one maybe a she, but definitely a they, also paused to look at their little hole. “Hello there!” Sam said emphatically, trying his best to mimic the smile and wave of the people at the tourist information centers he had visited. This they jumped back and just short of ran away, and this amused Sam and Ann greatly. The next being-creature-person, this one with a skirt, so theoretically more likely a she then he, but by no means definitely (however this complex gender identity issue was entirely beyond Sam and Ann’s care by this point), looked up at the hole and was greeted by a “Hello out there!” improvised song and dance combination from Ann. This caused the they to point excitedly, though not happily, before walking out of view, their eye never leaving Ann and Sam’s little hole. At this Ann and Sam fell into hysterical laughter.

This pattern repeated, with each encounter taking on a more childishly crude, juvenile-ly vulgar tone until, at the call for dinner, the siblings tossed the dark marble hole up onto a shelf, a dust covered neglected shelf, insignificant among the clutter of youth, destine to be forgotten then, in a short time, lost. The afternoon of utterly odd delight was initially spoken of in hushed tones between Sam and Ann, when they were sure they were alone, then not spoken of at all, until eventually, many years on, it was spoken of as a fond memory of an afternoon of entirely too much imagination, and there it would rest forever.

On a unremarkable street corner, somewhere quite other than here, a building was experiencing every building’s worst nightmare. It had a pest infestation; this beautiful, historic building was becoming riddled with tiny dark holes, and what’s worse is some of the pests not only failed to retreat from passersby but, ever so oddly, seemed to delight in screaming and flailing at any who did not regard the signs asking for the pests to be ignored. The poor owner, who had first found the first of the strange little holes, just next to the door, with two strange little faces, so odd with their two eyes, was now resigning himself to the loss of his beloved building, a building for which he had had beautiful plans. Now this building would be knocked to the ground, turned into rubble. Reluctantly he took one last look at this building which once housed his dreams, dreams which had been run through with holes, before he cast his giant eye to the ground, turned and walked into the brilliant purple sunset.