2

Macy lightly bounded down the stairs of the Wilshire apartment building. After a big breakfast and a routine check of her radio wave receiver, from which she expected a massage from her friends in the sky any day now, Macy was ready to start a day's work at the public library. Edith, Macy's supervisor, never paid much attention to the tall girl with limbs that stuck out at awkward angles, giving her the look of a very large stick figure with frizzy blond hair. But macy liked it that way; she enjoyed her privacy, and since the library was by no means a popular place for the people of this block to visit, she was able to get much quality time in with her favorite books.

The morning was frigid with a light drizzle of nearly freezing rain. Macy pulled her bright yellow trench coat tighter around herself while trying to avoid the dangerous puddles that filled up large potholes in the run-down street. The walk to the library from Macy's apartment was fairly short, just down the block, but it took an agonizingly long time in such treacherous weather. "Just wait until they finally come back for me," she thought to herself , "then I will be able to travel faster then the speed of light."

While crossing part of the street that was especially slick from the ice frozen overnight, Macy kept her eyes focused downwards in order to pick her way carefully. "Ooof," she exclaimed as her face smacked into a large pile of blubber. Or at least that's what it felt like. Macy looked up into the face of a very large man. As she examined his droopy cheeks and inset eyes, the man rather reminded Macy of one of the species her friends had introduced her to while she was aboard their spaceship, one they called "gluk," who were known for their large gravitational force.

"S'cuse me," the man muttered, wattling on his way.

Macy said nothing, the vivid memory of happier days bringing an overwhelming flood of emotions to her mind. Saddened, Macy entered the library only to be scolded by Edith for her tardiness. Macy apologized numbly, hung up her coat, and grabbed a small stack of returned books waiting to be shelved.

A soft shaft of sunlight spilled between the partially closed blinds on Macy's bedroom windows. Morning was here yet again. A groan, the fumbling of sheets, and then the tired sounds of Macy's awakening filled the small room. Macy stood up, gently swaying with the lightheadedness the comes after standing up too quickly. She looked around her pathetic bedroom. The walls, which Macy assumed had once been white, hadn't been painted in a while and were more of a grey color, forcing a depressing air on the rest of the room's contents. Her small bed, bookshelf, and dilapidated dresser took up most of the floorspace. On her grayish walls were newspaper clippings and pictures from magazines or printed out off of the Internet. Macy had moved into apartment 1312 in the Wilshire Tower about six months ago, not long before the incident that had made most of the town's inhabitants think she was crazy. In high school, Macy had never wanted to go to college; she knew she didn't have the grades, and, honestly, she hated school. Macy had moved to this small block because her parents said simply, "Macy, you have to move out because we are going to live in Portugal." So, with little money and education, Macy found a job at the local library. There was only one thing Macy cared about, and that was books. But her fascination had recently turned towards a very specific kind of book, one that in any way discussed alien abductions or life on other planets. Macy had been pegged as the block's crazy person because she truly believed that she had been abducted by aliens three weeks ago.