At first, we rejoiced at the newcomers’ arrival.
We had always been alone, interwoven, a gentle silent web within the sea. Beneath us, the laminae of our ancestors, never truly gone or forgotten. The sea, pulsating with our thoughts, past and present as one.
But the newcomers sought something; what, we did not know. Their machines, hard and loud, drilling, piercing our weave, disrespectful.
Our ancestors yielded, just enough.
Enough to trap.
Enough to let the sea make all hard things soft and all loud things quiet.
We are alone once again, interwoven, a gentle silent web within the sea.
Maura Yzmore teaches subjects with a lot of math at a large university in the Midwest. She writes short-form literary and speculative fiction, as well as humor. Her recent work can be found in Asymmetry Fiction, Exoplanet Magazine, Occulum, and elsewhere. Find out more at https://maurayzmore.com or on Twitter @MauraYzmore.