Floating Ink by James Livingood Page A

sky, the audience, lying on the lawn on soft blankets
also looked up. In the sky was an unnaturally black blot, the size
of a horse. Like a giant inkwell had spilled from the clouds and it
ran over a shape. It was hard to understand the purpose of the
flying object, as black tentacles went in and out of the body with
each motion. A black metallic shine served to point out the device
against the sunny sky. Soft whirs and clicks sounded from the
instrument as it plodded along through the sky. The device bobbed
up and down as if sucking in air from around its expanse. The
tentacles appeared to be scooping in the air the same way a man
would cup water to their mouth. It was at that moment of complete
silence that Ruth chose to speak.
    “What’s that foul looking thing?” she pointed
upward, “It looks like a shadow puppet.”
    Ruth stood from her tree and adjusted her
dress. While the dress alone was comfortable on a hot day, all the
extra layers trapped in heat like a winter coat. She fidgeted with
her hair, secretly checking for sweat. The initial droplets had
begun to form, so she took out her best cloth and dabbed at her
face. When no one responded to her question, Ruth looked around.
Everyone was still staring with wide eyes towards the shape in the
sky. Her own eyes rolled, and her head began to shake.
    “It’s a party favor! Nothing more. What is
everyone’s jaws so open?”
    Still, no one moved or made a comment. In
truth, Ruth could feel her doubt within. A nervous vibration of the
unknown was moving up to her throat. Her mother had taught her that
valor and elegance were part of womanhood. These were grown men and
women acting like foolish country bumpkins gawking at the first
light bulbs they had ever seen. The doubt and nerves she felt soon
swelled into anger. She would show these people that there was
nothing to fear. A valorous and elegant woman could handle any
situation.
    Ruth undid the buttons on her worn boot and
threw it at the object in the sky. She wasn’t sure what the end
result would be, but she certainly didn’t mean to hit the thing.
Her face turned red as soon as it dawned on her that throwing shoes
wasn’t very lady-like. That embarrassment faded as the device
reacted to the leather laced boot threat. A beam of light, like the
kind that breaks from a cloud on a gray day, shot down toward the
now still boot on the ground. The boot exploded seconds afterwards.
Bits of leather and lace falling out of the sky like an unnatural
snow.
    Being herd animals, everyone just looked at
the boot with quizzical looks. It didn’t register with people that
there could be something dangerous about a light that makes things
explode. Ruth’s frustrated scream at losing her favorite boot,
finally snapped the crowd into action. In a disorganized manner,
they grasped at their blankets and possessions, trying to exit the
scene. While it didn’t make sense to risk their life for a blanket,
panic doesn’t render wisdom.
    Ruth didn’t care about the chaos around her.
Instead, she only looked toward the ruin of her prestigious boot.
She really enjoyed that footwear. It was not only elegant enough
for a day out, but it was comfortable. That is what started to boil
her fear even further, that the footwear had been so comfortable
and was now gone. She took the other boot off and threw it at the
device. If the thing had taken one boot, it might as well have the
other.
    This time, before the boot struck, the light
appeared and the boot shredded mid-air. Screams around the leather
hide remnant surged and then died down as people fled. Ruth put her
hands to hips, determined to find out who had ruined her most
comfortable pair of footwear. She would make them pay for a new
pair. She would give them a heaping helping of her mind and then
make them open up their purses to pay for this stunt.
    As she tried stomping up to the device, it
floated away. The black ink blot floated toward a band member
putting his instrument in a