Excerpts from an Abduction…
It was a cold night in the dead of winter, yet unquestionably off in the distance there was the metallic music of an ice cream truck driving around the neighborhood. Why would an ice cream truck be driving through my neighborhood at one o’clock in the morning in the middle of the winter? It made no sense.
The rich chocolate velvety darkness of space.
The ice cream truck had been following me for several miles this time, always the same music, I couldn’t quite place the tune, but I knew I had heard it before. Gary Numan’s I’m Praying to the Aliens? No. The B-52’s She Came from Planet Claire? No. Or was it the theme music from Doctor Who? Finally, the lights turned and took an exit into an abandoned neighborhood.
The stars scattered across the sky like candy sprinkles.
This time the ice cream truck was only three cars behind me stuck on the one-oh-one freeway in the gridlocked traffic of downtown LA. The music was unintelligible as the speakers rattled and groaned like some ancient dinosaur dying as it was sucked into a tar pit like those near Fairfax and Wilshire. Looking in my rearview mirror I couldn’t make out the driver of the ice cream truck.
The galaxies spun overhead in confectionary colors resembling swirled soft serve cones.
The three ice cream trucks hovered low above the highway in front of my car. A bright beam of light illuminated the pavement beneath the middle truck. Behind the windows of the driver’s compartment, you could make out the gray uniformed beings with large almond shaped eyes. All sported those funny paper hats that soda jerks wore. Some held popsicles, others ice cream cones, while others had fantastical ice cream serving utensils never seen on earth before.
There was a rushing sound and then everything became quiet, the only noise was the constant whirring of the ICEE® machines that powered the ice cream truck’s hyperdrive.
The craft had landed on a smooth vanilla landscape of gentle hills that rolled towards rock candy mountains. Floating in the distance there seemed to be a city made of gleaming silver bowls and upturned tureens with soda shaker towers that rose into the soft pink sky. At the bottom of the low hill that we stood upon; a rocky road led toward the city. There was a graham cracker bridge that crossed a marshmallow river and strawberry fields lined the banks. Overhead large ice cream scoop moons hung above the horizon. Spacecraft shaped like donuts, cookies and ice cream cones flew towards and away from the city at great speeds.
