Toon Spaceships

Appearing in the twilight sky, a spaceship hangs low and looks as if designed by a student for homework. It comprises simple additive geometry of spheres, cylinders and cubes that were only rotated and scaled on various axes but otherwise not deformed or using any other custom shapes.

It appears as if having been painted using a toon shader plug-in to a cheap 3D modelling program.

My mind perceives it as almost translucent and seems close enough to touch if only this railing extended a little further from the tiny rooftop deck.

My wife says, “You see it too?”

Quoting, “I want to believe,” so I reach. My fingers feel nothing but air.

Barely a second after dropping my arm, the ship shimmers– or ripples– or I don’t know what to call the effect.

From the portion directly overhead, several people fell out. All are dressed in contemporary clothing.

The one nearest is a woman apparently in her early fifties.

Still laying on her back, she begins explaining that she was a tourist on an adventure because they always wanted to see here. The motion of her mouth when speaking is like watching a poorly dubbed movie.

As I offer her a hand up, our hands pass through one another’s.

“Oh, I keep forgetting,” she says. “You all seem so real.” As if remembering something, she orients her position with the ease of someone standing from an upright, high back chair.

A man in his early twenties who had also fallen from the sky walks over. Having spoken of her family travelling together, I presume this to be her son or son-in-law.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen! Mom, are you okay?”

“Oh, yes. Just feeling a little embarrassed. That’s all.”

“Dad and the others probably don’t know that we’re up here. I think they’re on the ground. We should go get them.”

With that, he takes two steps towards the railing and with a flying leap is over the railing, closes the gap from railing to edge of our apartment building and flies down out of sight like Ultraman in that distinctive Y-shape.

With everything happening so fast, I finally ask if she’s okay and if there’s anything we can do. She reaffirms that she’s well and politely declines any assistance.

Another one of them pops up as if scaling the outside of a twenty-two storey building is an everyday occurrence. She floats over and says, “Sofia! Paulo said that you were up here. We’re not supposed to have direct contact.”

“Oh, no worries about that, Rita.” The older woman, Sofia, waves her arm as if expecting it to pass through my shoulder similarly to what we both experienced a moment ago, but the slight impact makes me have to rebalance myself and leave a wrinkle in my jacket sleeve.

The younger woman, Rita, just lets out a sound. “Ooohhh.”

“How?” Sofia looks very confused. She then performs the same test on my wife with similar results.

Seeing Sofia a little stunned, Rita interjects. “Sorry. We’re not supposed to be here. At least not like this.”

My wife asks, “And,” with a wave of her hand gesturing to the two other women, “what is this? What’s going on?”

Rita explains. The vessels are constructs for travelling through the astral realm. None of the ships or people are physically present here. They’re in São Paulo. We ‘hear’ them in our native tongue even though they don’t speak English and she assumes correctly that we don’t speak Brazilian Portuguese.

That’s just the way this aspect of astral projection works, she says. While I have read Monroe’s Journeys Out Of The Body, her description doesn’t mesh with his.

She explains it as something changed around the end of 2012 but can’t understand the details.

“So the New Agers were right?”

“No. Well, yes, but for different reasons. There was something about all those solar flares and other effects of the Sun, building since the huge flare in November 2003 that burned off a layer of the atmosphere. More people are now able to experience things like astral projection and travel who tried yet were unable before.”

The confusing part is that her hand simply should pass through objects here– but didn’t.

Their problems began when we spotted their vessels. We shouldn’t have been able to see those, just as one cannot ordinarily see the infrared spectrum. But we did.

When I reached up and felt nothing, apparently something– some energy perhaps– transferred and disrupted their vessel. That’s when they fell out.

My wife half jokingly offers for them to stay for tea or coffee, if only they could partake in their current form. “So then, you are all lying down somewhere in Brazil in a meditative state, but are you stranded here?”

Both Sofia and Rita look puzzled.

“From what little I’ve read, if you think ‘home’ that should pull you back. Er, not just think but concentrate on the concept of home, whatever that may mean for you.”

My wife and Rita look at one another with a slight affinity, and my wife says, “Before you leave, I would like to know more!”

They exchange email addresses, which considering the situation seems a bit archaic now.

Rita wants to know how I was able to interact with a vessel that is supposed to be a thought-form and how we both were able to see it.

Sofia interrupts, saying that she thinks the men back home are trying to wake her up. Just then, both women vanish in a blur.

My wife says to me, “Well, we’ve always been open to the possibilities of reality being more than it seems. Perhaps that’s enough?”