She woke up from her coma.
Stumbling across the threshold to be greeted with her grey, sunken eyes- no warning whatsoever.
Her stolid gaze was on me. Her skin was paper, so delicate and animated. Her.
The woman shut her lids as a cacophony of defeating mortals spoke, I didn’t blame her.
But she? An aberration: a petite body tilting on small legs and a gaunt visage depilated.
Maybe an ill man, but the eccentric aura of her was too aggressive. I wavered.
Time was when we took it for granted that we were alone in the universe- on top of the evolutionary heap.
But finally, we have attracted these intellectual beings.
Despite sneers of abnegation,
I had reason to believe that this -her- had come to us to understand our mess of a labyrinth,
With hesitancy, I guide the stroller with the woman.
Her eyes were still closed, and I wondered what she was thinking.
Indeed, a culture shock for us, but her? Seemingly passive but I knew otherwise.
I took her into a white-washed room and saw her jerk open at the temperature. Glacial.
I waited beside her for another medic.
She must be planning to abscond this terrible place. I bet her home was warmer.
184 hours later.
The fear was tangible.
I cringed at the thought of making her suffer.
I still didn’t know how to refer to the woman.
Alien seemed to have become her alias.
She looked smaller than a week ago when I visited her.
Her skin was pale, a tinge of blue peeking through.
The vibe worse than a mortuary.
Motherly instincts blurred all. I pushed her out of the raw ice.
I covered her body and took her out into the balcony where the sun gave no mercy.
Her skin shimmered under the light and I almost noticed a reaction on her face.
Warmth melted her features.
Loose seams stitched haphazardly
I like to imagine that in her world, it represents a thank you.