Sailing Stones

The stones were there when we woke up one morning. We have no idea how they got there: a row of boulders spread out in a half-mile arch on the western outskirts of town. Other than the placement, there was nothing unusual about them whatsoever. They were just rocks, all ,ade of materials common to the area. 

At first we thought it might be a prank of some sort, but that wasn’t really feasible. It would have taken heavy construction equipment to move that many stones overnight, and that would have made a hell of a ruckus. Nobody fessed up, and we couldn’t figure it out. A few so persons so inclined thought maybe it was an act of God, and there were a few mentions of alien visitation. 

And then, one morning a week later they were gone, like they’d never been there before. Strangest thing. If we didn’t know better, we’d have thought that they’d just popped by for a holiday visit before moving on. 

And that’s when it got strange. See, the stones never came back to visit us, but a few weeks after that we got news that another town upstate had something similar happen to them. And then another, and another. All over the world, according to the news. 

They started turning up in big cities. London. Tokyo. New York. There’s a postcard of a group of them circling the Eiffel Tower in Paris that’s quite popular. 

They never hurt anyone, never even block the roads, and no one ever sees them move. These days, most people tend to just sort of ignore them when they turn up, like most other tourists.

We wander this world as we please. Sometimes, we forget: the earth wanders too. 

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