You couldn't put your finger on what it was. There was something about it, even at the most casual look, that said alien. As far as size was concerned, it might have been a large toy model dirigible, but it never occurred to Bill-even at his first glimpse of it when it was about fifty feet in the air, just opposite his window-that it might be a toy or a model. It was cigar-shaped, about seven feet long and two feet in diameter at the thickest point. But Bill, for once, didn't answer her, He was too engrossed in the incredible thing across this street in the park. She must have felt something different in Bill-possibly from the sudden rigidness in his fingers or possibly because cats are prescient and feel changes of mood, Anyway she rolled over on her back and said "Miaouw," quite plaintively. She stopped purring, though, when Bill stopped stroking her. It floated gently down out of the sky and came to rest in Central Park on the open grass between the Simon Bolivar Monument and the walk, barely a hundred yards from Bill Wheeler's window.īill Wheeler's hand paused in stroking the soft fur of the Siamese cat lying on the windowsill and he said wonderingly, "What's that, Beautiful?" but the Siamese cat didn't answer. Bill Wheeler was, as it happened, looking out of the window of his bachelor apartment on the fifth floor on the corner of 83rd Street and Central Park West when the spaceship from Somewhere landed.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |