Snow Runes

 

 

Strewn in the road, many strips of snow a couple of feet long, three inches wide. Laid in varied positions, some touching others, some parallel. Some cross at right or acute angles. Obviously, these are runes. As a literary scholar, it’s my job to read them. They are probably a celestial comment on the theology we’ve taken for granted for too long. Time to revise our thinking and ourselves. Time to rename our gods. Time to learn to sleep flat on our backs so we can see the roof and ceiling lift to expose us to the stars. Who laid down these runes? I check a runic dictionary and learn that some of these are characteristic, others not. Perhaps a combination of runic characters with Morse Code idiolect.  The first sentence extends from one power pole to the next, a hundred steps away. Using my innate gift for unknown languages, I determine that it reads, “Thus be the great cabal assembled among the crosswinds.” This is the first and only sentence so far. I gaze down the road but detect only a few more scattered runes, too far apart for syntax. I realize that these neat strips fell from the power lines, proving that an ancient electrical spirit is at work. Perhaps more information will occur overnight. Maybe the vibration of passing spaceships I sometimes hear deep in the small hours will shake more rune-strips from the lines, imparting a generous wisdom.