Ring-a-ling echoes through Big Bill’s diner, and a young man walks through the front door. He is welcomed by a host. “How many in your party?” she says with a smile, waiting for an answer. With hesitation, the young man looks like he is having a kung fu battle with himself in his head. He shakes it off and responds, “Just one, but I do want a booth, please.” He puts on one of the weakest smiles known to humanity. If there were an award for that, he would win it.
The hostess is unsure if she is allowed to give a party of one a booth. “Let me ask my manager real quick.” She takes the phone, dials a number, and says, “Bill, I have a guy who is a party of one and wants a booth. Can we do that?” She stares into the young man’s eyes until she gets an answer. She hangs up the phone and, with a big smile, says, “It’s your lucky day. He allowed it, and that is rare. Come follow me.” She leads the way, and the young man follows like she is a blocker in football and he is carrying the ball to move forward. We get to a booth in the corner of the diner with a big window with a view of the parking lot, and everyone can see him as they pull into the place. The young man looks irritated. He snaps at the hostess, “Is there another booth? This is not sufficient for me.” With sincerity and empathy, she says, “No, sir. The other booths are occupied or need cleaning. If you want, I can see how” A scoff is audible as the young man interrupts. “Never mind. It’s OK. This will do.” The hostess has a small annoyed look on her face, and like a flash, she is gone, away from the troubled young man.
The young man takes out his phone and looks at a text. All it says is, “Happy Birthday, enjoy your day.” At the top of the phone screen, the text says Gammy. His eyes are watery from reading it, but he shakes it off and shoves his phone into his pocket like he is hiding it from someone. A very tall waitress with the most upbeat personality in the diner approaches. The man stares at her very bright red, lipsticked lips as she says, “What drink can I start you off with, hun?” He turns his head to the left, and something catches his eye. It seems like a clear or translucent shadow in the shape of a man darts across the window. He ignores it, probably thinking that because his eyes were watery, he mistakenly saw that shadow. He turns his attention back to the waitress and replies, “Just a coffee, ma’am. Black, two sugars.” She takes out her pen and pad. “You know what you want to eat, baby?” He shakes his head and responds, “Not yet, just the coffee for now.” She nods her head in reassurance. “It’s OK, hun. The menu is there. When you are ready, give me a holler.” She continues to her next table.
As he stares at her walking away, a man seems to teleport in front of his booth. He is a tall man on the older side, wearing a well-kept suit, with a very unusual smile, like he doesn’t know how to smile and is putting on a show. He speaks, “Hi, sir. Would it be a trouble if I join you in this marvelous booth?” It looks like the young man is going to shoo him off, but the tall man sits anyway. The young man looks puzzled and annoyed that he is ruining his privacy.
“Sir, I do not want to cause a scene, but I would like to be alone.” The tall man seems to process like a computer to understand what the young man said. He puts on that smile again. “I saw you through the window, and it seemed like you needed someone to talk to.” The young man gets agitated and fires back, “Did you just hear what” The waitress enters this party of two and says, “Oh, looks like you got a friend. What drink am I getting you, mister?” The smile returns, and the tall man replies, “Just a water.” Before the young man can tell her that he wants him out, she gets called by another table and walks away. A loud sigh comes from the young man, and he turns his attention to the tall man. “Listen, can you please leave? All I want to do is be alone and drink my coffee in peace. I do not want company, and I do not want to talk.” Again, just like a computer, he takes in that data, and there is a lag in response time. “Well, Frank, I cannot leave you alone. We have many things we need to talk about.” After he says that, he puts on that off-putting smile again. The young man’s face turns pale and confused. “How do you know my name? Who the fuck are you?” The tall man, with a quicker response time, says, “We all know you, Frank. And in time, you will know who we are.”
“Who the fuck is we!? Are you following me or something!? What the fuck is this!?” Frank says in anger, with a hint of fear. The tall man tilts his head and says, “I am sorry to anger you, but we felt you could be a person we can have contact with.” Frank, done with these charades, sticks his head out to yell for the waitress. But, in shock, the diner is empty not a single person in sight. Everyone is just gone. Frank sits back in his booth and stares at the tall man like he is a monster. “What are you?” he stutters in fear. The tall man puts a bigger grin on his face. “No need to fear. We come to you in no hostility.” Frank shakes his head. “Bullshit. Where is everyone that was in this diner?” As he says that, people appear back in the diner like nothing happened. Frank automatically tries to get their attention, but before a single sound can escape his flapping lips, they disappear again. The tall man calmly says, “Please sit down. We want to speak to you. You have been chosen to be talked to.”
The tall man continues, “We have been watching all of you for a long time. So many emotions roaming around, some with good intentions and many with bad intentions. Unfortunately, the people with bad intentions are the ones with power in this world.” Frank gives it a couple of seconds before he responds. “What’s with all the cryptic talking? Just give it to me straight, because you are freaking me the fuck out. Am I dead or something? Am I in hell?”
For the first time, the tall man has a genuine reaction, and he laughs. “No, you are alive and well. Sorry if you feel like I am not being direct with you. But when we enter the physical world, it’s hard to get used to speaking through the mouth.” Frank is even more confused now. “OK, what the fuck are you saying? …physical world? I must be dreaming, because this is insane.” Frank takes a fork and stabs his hand to wake up, but before he does serious damage, he yelps in pain. “OK, I am not dreaming, I guess.”
The tall man takes the fork from him and says, “You are not dreaming. You are not in hell. You are in the same building you entered before you met us. I have taken you out of time for this conversation we are going to have.” Frank raises an eyebrow and replies, “Out of time? What does that mean? And how?”
“Apologies, but I am going to have to explain it to your kind, since it is quite difficult. Imagine a bubble covering this booth. To you, time is normal, but outside of the bubble, time is suspended. Once this bubble pops, time will resume, and everything will go back to normal.” The tall man explains how they are alone in the diner. Frank seems to calm down, but he is still on edge with wonder and fear. “What are you?”
The tall man goes back to that response time, like a lagging computer. “We are what you call extraterrestrial, or aliens, but we are dimensional beings.” He continues, “What you perceive in this three-dimensional world, we see and live in a whole new world compared to yours.” Frank, concerned, replies, “So I am speaking to a dimensional alien… Why me? What makes me so special? You can literally speak to smarter people than me. I am a failure with no life or future.” The tall man turns serious and, with a stern look on his face, says, “We don’t choose people at random. The universe has its meaning, and you have a purpose. And we chose you, and we do not make mistakes.”
“OK, so are you giving me some type of mission or something for this purpose?” Frank mockingly responds. The tall man shows annoyance for the first time. “This is not like your movies you watch, where you have some epic tale to play out.” Frank fires back, “Then why are you making a bubble of suspended time to talk to me? What is the point?” The tall man’s response time quickens again. “You are not listening. The universe has meaning, and you have a purpose.” Frank rolls his eyes. “What is my purpose, then? Because if you are speaking to me and you have ‘chosen’”—his fingers do air quotes—“me, it seems important that out of billions of people you have spoken to me.”
“Frank, do not be offended, but you are not the only chosen person to talk to. In your world, at this very time, we are speaking to many others. So you are not, as you say, special, but you do have a purpose in this universe.” Frank seems sad and replies, “OK, sorry. I’ve just been trying to find meaning for so long. It seems like I am going nowhere, and it is depressing.” Water appears in his eyes again, and he continues, “I have seen my parents, grandparents, and friends live life with meaning and achievements, and I feel like I am in quicksand. I am stomping my feet as fast as I can but not moving forward just stuck and I am slowly sinking into the sand, watching my life rot away.” The tall man listens like he cares, and Frank hasn’t had someone care for a long time. Frank continues, “As I sink in this quicksand, all my loved ones are leaving me, whether by their own choice or because they pass away. I used to be happy and great to be around. I am just a disappointment.” Frank sighs as he spills his emotions to this alien.
The tall man smiles again, but it’s not creepy; it’s like a eureka moment. He says, “Now that is why we are here.” Frank, confused, asks, “You are here because I am a loser?” The tall man replies, “No, we are here because you need that motivation and meaning to continue forward and, as you say, be happy again.” Frank laughs like it’s a joke. “So you have chosen me, with many others, to be happy again?” The tall man shakes his head. “Just you. Others have their own meaning and purpose.” He continues, “You humans are interesting because you care about meaning, but instead of looking into yourself to help, you look to others for meaning, when you already have all the tools and potential to move mountains in the universe.” He goes silent for about two minutes, like he is listening to someone, then nods. “Frank, I want to show you something. Take a look at the window.”
Both Frank and the tall man turn to the big window, but instead of the parking lot, it shows Frank’s house. Like someone holding a camera, it floats through the house and out the back door to the big tree in the backyard. Frank stands on a stool with a noose around his neck, in tears. He looks up at the sky and says, “I am sorry.” Before Frank can see his own demise, he yells, “TURN IT OFF!” With frustration, he fires back, “After I fucking spilled my feelings to you and made myself very vulnerable, you fucking show me killing myself. THAT IS SICK! Are you doing some type of study on humans?” The tall man says calmly, “Look again.”
Now the window shows Frank’s house again. Frank thinks it is a repeat, but this time there are cars outside, and the lights are on. Inside, Frank’s family and friends fill the living room, cheering him on. Frank has launched a book series, and he has won the Hugo Award. Seeing himself feels foreign, like watching an alternate reality of his passion playing out in front of his eyes. Frank tears up as he sees the book. The stories once only in his head are now visual, like a memory replaying one that has not yet happened in his timeline. His family and friends are happy for him, like they knew he had this in him all along. The Frank in the vision says,
“I would like to thank all of you for coming. I just have something to say. Life can be precious, and life can be challenging. Love is always constant, and you should always listen to love. You think time is infinite and that everyone you love will be by your side and that we go hand in hand into the afterlife. But we all know that isn’t the case. I always had people close to me tell me I was good at writing. I didn’t believe in myself, and when Grandma passed away, it’s like I froze in fear. I could have let that fear consume me, but I remembered what she said in her last letter to me. She said, ‘Frank, follow your dream,’ and that is what keeps me going. I know that sounds cliché, but the underline of following your dream is that the love she has for me is my fuel to keep going and capture that dream. So let’s raise our glasses and toast to love and Grandma.”
The vision disappears, and Frank sobs, tears streaming down his face.
The tall man says, “Your purpose is to carry that love and express it to as many people as you can because you have that ability. Everyone has that ability, whether on a small or larger scale.” He hands Frank a napkin. Frank wipes his tears and blows his nose, clearing the snot from sobbing. He regains his composure and asks, “So will my writing help people?” The tall man replies, “It will help many. You will change people’s lives for the better with the stories you make. But that is not the point. The point is that by conquering your passion, you will radiate your drive and happiness to others. And throughout your life, there will be many roads you will go down that you would never take now.”
Frank opens up again. “When my grandma and grandpa passed away, I had never faced death with someone close to me. It is surreal most of your life, they are here, and out of nowhere, they are gone.” He takes a sip of cold coffee and continues. “In the final years before Grandma passed away, she brought my faith back…” He stops. “Is he real?” He points to the sky. The tall man says, “You mean the Creator? Yes, he is real, and he created both you and us.” Frank seems relieved and continues, “When she brought back my faith, I felt peace in my heart. I started to see the road I needed to go down in life.” He pauses, choked up, but steadies himself. “Then, out of nowhere, she was gone, and my moral compass the person who always made me see the light in life was gone. And I started rotting away.”
The tall man interrupts. “Sometimes spirits come into our dimension because our world is almost a bridge to what you call the afterlife. They get to see your three-dimensional world like a telescope. Yes, she has been watching you.” Frank smiles, his eyes watering again. “She cannot speak to you, but you feel her in your heart, and she hears you when you talk to her.” The tall man emphasizes this because it is the foundation that will launch Frank into his passion.
The tall man senses more curiosity. “I can tell your mind is racing, and a seed is planting for your journey. I will give you three questions of our knowledge.” He pauses, speaking to himself. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Frank chuckles. “What was that? Are they making sure you don’t give up the universe’s secrets?” The tall man laughs. “In a way, yes. Some things I cannot explain because they could cause a splinter of timelines and make a mess.”
The tall man sits up straight. “You may ask three questions about the universe or your world. The only thing I cannot comment on is your future you are the only one who can create it.” Frank frowns. “But you just showed me writing a book series. Isn’t that my future?” The tall man explains, “The road you were on was leading to that tree. I only showed you the other side of it. You had to listen and embrace love to achieve what you want.” Frank nods.
“Well, OK. First question: will there be worldwide first contact with another species?” “Yes. Not our kind, but a species living in your physical universe, far away.” He continues, “There will be growing pains, but hope will be passed down, and cooperation will form.” He adds, “Peace will come, but it will be a long road you will not live to see.” Frank seems satisfied.
“Next question?” Frank thinks, snaps his fingers. “Did ancient civilizations know more about the universe than we do?” The tall man answers, “Yes, by a large margin. But the truth was hidden by those in power.” Frank asks, “Are the pyramids in Egypt proof?” The tall man nods. “Yes. They are not just tombs they are communication devices.” Frank interrupts, “Like the coils under them?” “Yes. But humanity was meant to grow on its own.” The tall man stares into Frank’s eyes. “You are one puzzle piece. Small actions will domino into great achievements. Trust us.” He falls silent, waiting.
Frank smiles, sipping stone-cold coffee. “Can I make you a character in my stories?” The tall man is caught off guard. “You want us in your stories? Why?” Frank laughs. “You pulled me out of quicksand. I can move forward now.” He continues, “You helped me see and hear. I know what I must do because of you.” A tear forms in the tall man’s eye. “So this is emotion?” Frank nods. “Our best and worst trait.” Frank asks again, “Will you be in my stories?” “We would be honored.” They shake hands.
The tall man stands. “Our mission is done.” Frank asks, “Will I see you again?” “I will be with you in your heart and in your writing.” He looks upward. “Live a happy life.”
The diner returns to normal. The waitress arrives with water, confused. “Where did your friend go?” Frank smiles at the sky. “He went to help others find their purpose.” She shrugs. “OK, hun. What’ll you eat?” “Scrambled eggs and two blueberry pancakes, please.” “Coming right up.”
Frank once lived in darkness, but now he will spread hope through his stories.
He takes a pen, grabs a napkin, and begins to write.
aliens beings dimensional interdimensional beings short stories
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