Visions of the Future – (a story/ish)

Visions of the Future

A little boy came up to his grandfather and tugged on his cape to get his attention. It took a few tugs and he almost gave up. But finally, the old man looked down and asked if there was something the boy needed. Well not really, or if there had been, he’d forgotten. So he reached up his arms to be picked up. Which grandfather did.

Grandfather lifted the boy to the sky and vroomed him around like an airplane. But no such thing existed yet. And told him a story about people lining up to get on this aircraft. Something that was heavier than anything they knew of, even the buffalo. Something faster than anything they knew, even the buffalo. It could go higher than a hawk or an eagle. And carried more people than the chief’s sled could.

The little boy asked if dogs could fly so they could pull the aircraft. He was told no. There was something metal that had something in it that would make many sick and many wealthy. And came in barrels full.

The little boy tapped his grandfather’s shoulder to signal he wanted down. And ran to find his father. To tell him what he had just heard. His father remembered the story from his own childhood. And remembered looking for the craft many times, wondering if he would ever see it. But he never had.

Father sent the boy to his mother for a snack, and went to find his own father. He asked if the aircraft were flying today. And the old man said they were just flying in his head. So far. But they might come soon, since they were being drawn now by some young man in a country far away.

The old man said that many would come before him to change their world, before the aircraft rose in the skies for it’s maiden voyage. And there would be a day when the craft would rule the skies, carrying things that destroyed buildings and people at will. As if it was a trixster.

His son asked if there was a way to stop this thing from being built. The old man said no. What had been envisioned now would come to be. If not from this artist, then from another. The craft was something that would change the world. And not necessarily for the better.

But there would come a day when it flew once too often and carried things shaped like an ear of corn. Things that would take many peoples to the gods. And leave earth in ruins with no people on it, if those with power didn’t stop it from changing who they were then.

His son asked if there was anyway to warn the people of what their ways could bring. The old man said no. What had to come would come.

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