STRANGE SKIES OVER TOLLIVER Tolliver, LA, Oct. 23 -- 36 year-old Dustin Babineaux had just gotten home from his job at an oil plant when his daughter, Lacy, age 6, came inside to tell he and his wife Michelle that there was something in the sky in their backyard. "I didn't actually think we'd see anything. I was just humoring her," Dustin said. But lo and behold, there was something there. "It was sunset and the darkest part of the sky was behind our house, so we couldn't really make out much of it." What they could see of it they captured on video and dropped off at KYZI Channel 14 that evening. "It seemed like it was taller than it was wide," Michelle explained. "We just looked at it each other real bright-eyed and such. It was just weird." "It was too low to be an airplane, and it just kind of sat there," Dustin elaborated. "I don't know. But I keep the cam on the back porch now just in case." When asked if they believed the Babineaux's story, the Babineaux's neighbors, Hugh and Beth Derbonne, said that they did not doubt their friends. "Well we saw it on t. v., and it didn't look like no airplane," said Beth. "Hard to tell what it looked like at all, but it looked just like all those UFO's in those other videos." The Derbonnes did not report seeing the same object as well, but said that they would be on the look-out for it now. "Yeah, Dustin's got me all paranoid now that I'm going to be abducted," Peter joked. In the meantime, a local chapter of MUFON (the Mutual UFO Network) stationed in Shreveport, whom we contacted, is set to send a field investigator to Tolliver. "Basically it's just to find out if we have any more witnesses to the event," stated Charlie Lundy, president of the chapter. "We'll take a look at the footage as well and decide whether or not we should add it to our archives, with the Babineaux's permission of course." The investigator will arrive Monday. --The Monroe Picayune Welcome to Circadia, where the Visitor becomes the host and you become the unwilling guest. It remains just enough in view to let me know for sure where it is, its torso disappearing somewhere between the shadows and the wall. Sometimes--like this time--when I look directly at its chest it loses its ambiguous veil of darkness and turns into a raw exposition of a rib cage. Between the moist brown-grey bars pumps slowly a set of dark red organs, and between these sits a yellowish cylindrical organ that seems to quiver like a dead leaf in a chilled breeze. It’s not human anatomy I’m seeing; there are too few ribs, and the yellow organ I’ve never seen anything like in any textbook. Furthermore, it seems luminous, providing its own wick of light just for its visibility to me. Ah, how delightful. The ebon skin (skin?) drapes back down, crawling over its innards like the back of a huge snake. I’ve just noticed a tear, it’s cold now, streaked down my temple from the corner of my eye. I’m flexing the muscles in my left arm. If I flex hard enough, it jerks. But every time it jerks, the breath in my lungs knots and burns. I can’t afford-- Where’d it go? Nothing. Shit. Shit. Where’d if fucking go? There’s nothing. Just colors in the dark my mind makes up, trying to reason with my vision that it can’t be gone, that it is not gone. I can move my legs now. But I’m afraid to move. I’ve never moved. I’m afraid it’ll not like my sudden resistance and decide to rip my legs off. But it can’t do that, right? It’s supposed to be a hallucination, correct? I never take that chance though. There! There it is. In the far corner. It’s been watching me. It knows. It knows I can attempt escape. But its glowing red eyes, accented by the two short silhouettes I make out to be horns (this cliché it presents is like a joke I keep missing), say “no you don’t.” They go on to look infuriated. I can’t play anymore, so it’s mad. Good, time to depart Circadia. But not before my vision ceases to work (it fucking takes it from me) and now not even the moonlight is there to cling to. I’m a blind man. There’s then this slight discomfort that begins to amplify intensely before I wake up in the middle of the night--the normal night--with a gasp.
The works of Raven McAllister