The bottom branched out against the floor like brittle tree roots
 that clawed and burrowed into the carpet.  The entire base was 
the winding body of a python, oriently carved, with ruby eyes.  
It's mouth opened to a crystal globe that glittered like a 
gigantic prism.  Pearl fangs curled around the globe and clutched 
it with merciful fervor.

	"It saw it in the back of Second-Hand Sam's, just sitting
 there in the corner, and I though of you, Craig.  It's it simply
 to die for.?" The old woman smiled her porcelain denture grin 
and pointed a proud, wrinkled finger at the exotic-looking floor
 lamp.

	"Aunt Monica, you really didn't have to buy me anything; 
it was really nothing..." Craig Sanders started to protest.

	"Nonsense!  Getting your first book published is a very 
big deal.  You deserve a present once in a while; we all do." 
 Craig couldn't listen to his aunt anymore.  His attention was 
stolen by the fuzz sprouting above her lip and the smell of 
powder-fresh potpourri that caged her.

	Her long, red press-on nails clicked together in a 
hypnotic metronome.  Blah blah blah, blah, blah-blah-blah-blah...
  He jumped spasmodically as if he were consciencely attempting 
to snap himself out of it.

	"Okay, yeah, thanks, Aunt Monica," he said quickly, "I 
have much to do this afternoon.  I'm working on an idea for a new 
story, and I have cleaning up to do from the victory party last 
night.  You understand."  Craig, like most men in an artistic 
field, was a bit of a loner.  He didn't enjoy much attention; he 
was ell reserved.  After his first book was published, his family 
and few friends crushed him with enthusiasm.  Interrupting him 
when he'd be trying to work would throw him into a feeling of 
malice.  In desperate hunger for his solitary haven, he wished 
his aunt hadn't come for a visit.

	"Yes, Cookie," Monica sighed, "I understand.  I might be 
an old woman, but I still know when I'm not wanted."

	"No, no, nothing like that.  You know I love you.  I just
 need some time alone."
	"Well, what ever you want to call it, its fine.  I have 
some errands and work to do around the house myself."  Monica 
backed away from her nephew and stepped up to the door.  She 
turned before slipping out the door.  "You're never going to meet
 a woman locked up in here, she added and stepped out into the 
hall before Craig could think of a response.

	At least I'm finally alone.  He stretched out on the sofa
 and daydreamed for a moment before sitting up to start on a new
 book.  He pulled his laptop out from between the couch and end 
table.  He opened the lid and let the machine boot up while he 
got himself a Pepsi.

	The soda fizzed when he opened it, and his mind wandered
 a bit as he sipped.  Aliens; people dig aliens.  I'll make this
 one about space invaders or something.  Heck, H.G. Welles pulled
 it off.

	He sat on the edge of the couch, rubbed his hands 
together, and began to type.


	The Happening

Craig Sanders

	Victor could see something moving in the clouds a short 
distance above the silo.  Pieces of it poked out like the tails 
of fish caught in a drift net.  He turned to run when it dawned 
on him the precise size of the spaceship bec

	He stopped typing.  The lights overhead in the sitting 
area were dim, yet the light coming from behind him was 
brilliant.  The track lighting in the kitchen area was switched
 off, but Craig's deep, dark shadow loomed and lingered on the 
wall in front of him.  Slowly, he turned his head over his 
shoulder.  The picture he saw made Craig whip his entire body 
around, slide off the couch, and bang the back of his head on the
 edge of the coffee table.  His eyes opened with fear and 
apprehensiveness.  The shimmering, tunnel-like apparition that 
sat before him seemed to be winking with erotic pleasure.

	The sound it made reminded Craig of someone running his 
finger on the edge of a glass.  A 32 gallon glass it seemed, for 
the sound was amplified at least a hundred times more than the 
average drinking glass.  Looking into the tunnel was like looking
 down a vacuum cleaner hose coated with thick, translucent jelly.
  The insides slurped and pulsed like a heartbeat; the center was
 a tongue lashing out and groping to reach some unknown target.


	Underneath the sound of whirring glass, Craig heard the 
faint sounds of children laughing.  The laughter grew louder and 
louder in quick, spasmodic, bursting crescendos.  Craig was no 
longer sure he heard laughter anymore; he heard terrified 
screams.

	The pulsating was no longer that of a solid metronome; it
 began to flutter with unrecognizable patterns.  The center of 
the hose began to take shape.  Before long, the  distinct 
silloette of a man was visible in the middle of the jelly.  As 
its body came closer and closer to the surface of the jelly, the 
less it looked like a human man's body.  

	Finally, the creature pierced the surface.  It appeared 
relatively human, but it's head and limbs were small.  This was a 
contrast it it's height, which was a foot below floor to ceiling
.  "Where's the ruby?"  It snarled at Craig with a fierce,
 commanding tone.  it's long fingers tapped against it's boney
 leg like fumbling tenacles.

	"Who are you?"  Craig somehow managed to say.  He shook 
his head wildly with disbelief.  This is not happening...I'm 
dreaming..this can't be happening...

	"Where's the RUBY!" It's voice boomed.

	"What ruby?"  Craig was cowaring and backing away
. 
	The creature's face grew weary. "I'm so tired of these 
games," he rumbled, "I'm a man from the sixth dimension of the 
cosmic seal.  I traveled from world to world searching fro the
 Ruby of Interdimensional Rein.  With that stone, I will rule 
every dimension of every populated galazy.  You're going to help
 me find it!"

	"No!"  Craig called out, "I don't know what you're 
talking about, nor do I know where it its.  I won't help you."

	The dimensional being snatched at Craig's throat with 
it's tenacales, "You'll do as I say, or I'll snap you in half; 
you only have two choices."

	Craig didn't waste anymore time trying to protest.  He 
ran around the front of the couch and headed towards the kitchen
.  He looked about the small apartment.  Near the entrance way to
 the kitchen was the open door of a broom closet.  Broom 
closet..broom closet..broom...  He saw a broom tucked into the 
back of the closet.  Tipping boxes and kicking containers of 
cleanser, he fished the broom out of the closet and gripped it 
like a karate artist.  The being stood before him, his lips 
curled, and a deep snarl flowed from his throat.  

	Without hesitation, Craig let out a tremendous roar and 
through his body into the creature.  He buried the broom handle 
into the creature's body.  The creature let out a cry as it 
flipped over the couch and landed at the foot of the porthole's
 flashing jelly.  As the creature began to stand, Craig jumped 
over the couch after him.  By the time he reached the foot of the 
porthole, the creature was already standing.  With one more 
tremoundous shove, the ruby seeking monster was thrown back into
 his dimension.  He continued to claw out of the jelly-like walls
 of the porthome, but Craig thought fast one last time.  Within 
seconds, the lamp was smashed.  

	In the end, Craig Sanders had an original idea for his 
book after all.



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