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Green is for go... but to where does it lead.

All things were mysterious, from my window.

By Emma WhitePublished 3 years ago 10 min read
Green is for go... but to where does it lead.
Photo by Alexandre Chambon on Unsplash

Looking out my window, I saw this green light shining out of somewhere. I could not get my head around it. Where it was coming from. At first, I thought it was a laser light, at first.

Then I wondered if it was a plane light. No, it was not. It was mesmerizing. It got larger and smaller and more prominent and smaller.

I wanted to try and capture it on the phone, film it to see what is happening. I could not film it. It would not film. Every time I got my camera out, it would vanish.

Was I going mad? Why could I not capture this? Was it aliens? A spaceship.

Was it in my head?

Why can’t I catch it? Why does it come back when the camera is turned away or turned off?

I sat on my bed and just watched it.

I looked up and suddenly noticed that it was on my mirror, and it was playing across the glass.

So, I took out the camera and filmed it on that sneakily. Through some flowers on my bedside table disguising it. And there. I finally caught it. I had been watching it for ages. Hours, in fact. I had been looking at it since seven o’clock in the evening, and it was now one am in the morning.

Watching the light through my screen, I turned off my camera.

I had captured a twenty-minute video of the mysterious green light.

I got up and walked back to my veranda, sat down on my outdoor table and chair set, and just sat there still staring at the light.

It was captivating.

Even after all this time, it was still so captivating.

I decided to go and move inside and make a tea and grab a blanket. It was getting cold. But I did not want to stop watching it. I wanted to watch it until it was finished. To see if I could work out what was.

I walked inside and made the tea. Then hurried back to watch my mystical light.

Where it came from? That was the question. But it was predictable. It would start out the size of a tennis ball, grow to the size of a bowling ball and back to the tennis ball again.

It was like this muse now.

Suddenly it just stopped. I felt like my heart sunk. I was having so much fun watching it and studying it. It made me sad now it was suddenly gone. It was like this huge thing I had invested all this time, suddenly it was now gone.

I picked up my cup, and I went inside, shut the door and locked it. I finally turned back my sheets and lay down to sleep.

I set my alarm I needed to be up at five in the morning. Now I was not leaving too much time to sleep at would try.

Ring, ring, ring, I could hear the alarm going off. I looked up, and my alarm was going off.

My eyes felt like sawdust.

I got up slowly and pushed back my covers.

My back was a bit sore, probably from sitting on the veranda all night.

Suddenly I felt a smile, that particular light. What was it? It was so beautiful, and I had spent the whole night captivated by it. It seemed like a distant memory, but it was still fascinating to me.

Was it a dream?

Then I remembered my phone. I rolled over and grabbed it. I went into the gallery and found the video. There it was, and I pressed the play button on the file and watched my muse on the screen.

Excited that I was not going crazy and happy it was back again.

Then I had this shiver, as the alarm went off again, I look at my alarm clock, it was five-thirty. I was so late. I had to get ready quickly for a meeting at six-thirty. It took me a good forty-five minutes to walk to the café, where my meeting took place. I ran to my walk-in rob and grabbed a suit and blouse. The first thing I could put my hands on threw on some heels, ran to the bathroom, did a quick layer of foundation, and just did mascara and red lipstick. Not time for much else, put some dry shampoo in my hair and threw it into a bun.

I grabbed my bag and keys, slammed my door on the way out, and started to my run, which is rather challenging in heels, but it is one of my gifts to try and make my meeting. I ran and ran, and I finally saw my café and looked down at my watch, and saw I had five minutes to spare. I sat down at my favorite table. Madelina came over.

“Miss Katie, how are you this morning; do you want your usual.”

I looked at her and nodded, as I had just taken a big drink of water on the table, so I could not answer.

She smiled and nodded.

I lent it down to my bag, got out my diary and looked over my morning appointments; this morning, meetings were with Mr. Terrence. I am a writer, and I met this gentleman to learn about his theory on some conspiracy theory, a well-known tabloid one in the city. One whom I despise. So, I could not be more excited. I looked again at my clock; my appointment was now running ten minutes late. I looked down to keep going through my other appointments, and a shadow went across my book.

‘Bonjour, madam?”

I looked up to see a very handsome fair-headed, tall man in a suit with a moustache looking down at me.

I was sort of star-struck; this human looked like some European Prince.

“Ohhh, hello, and you are?” I said, looking him over.

“I am your appointment, miss Katie.”

I felt blushing going across my face and then this cold feeling.

“Ok, mmmm Mr. Terrence? I guess before you sit down, how did you know who I was, or have we meet before?”

He looked down at me and took his glasses off and looked down at me, and smirked.

“Well, kind of, but this is our first meeting that you will remember. I staked you on social media. I had to check you out. See if you were, as pretty as I remembered.”

I looked away. That was strange, and yet, It made me blush.

“I see; forgive me, but when I looked you up for the same stalking purposes, I found nothing, so are you a serial killer? Will this be my last coffee.” I said, looking him over again as the new waitress brought over my coffee and breakfast. And a glass of wine.

She sat them down and smiled at me. And I nodded toward her.

I looked down at my order.

“So, Mr. Terrence, why I can’t find you.”

I looked up at him.

He looked down at me, and I saw him raise his eyebrow.

I looked at my glass and picked it up. Raised it to the sun and made direct eye contact with him.

“Oh, this Mister Terrence is not a normal occasion, it is my birthday, and it is a tradition.”

He looked down at me and smiled.

“Oh, and Mister Terrence, you did not answer the question, are you a serial killer?”

He smiled. “No, Madam, I am not. I swear on my mother’s life.

“Well, good then, Mr Terrence, take a seat.” I gestured toward the opposite seat.

He smiled again and sat down.

“Madam, I do have a confession.”

I raised my eyes at him, “Ohhh, do go on, I want to know this theory.”

“Yes, madam, about that, that is all fake. That was my confession was about, seeing as you are hard to get a hold of, I made it up.”

I glared at him, “oh see, Mr Terrence, so why play tricks on me, and why should I stay here first? You’re stalking at me, and now you are lying to me. The evidence of you kind of; has you with the makings of a serial killer. “

He smiled, “I am sorry for the deception, but I genuinely wanted to meet you.” He looked me over.

“Madam, how did you find your green light.”

Well, my back got a shiver, and I looked at him so that I could not look weak; I straightened my back and narrowed my eyes at him.

“I see, the mysterious light was you, so you’re a liar, and an alien, and a stalker, so should I call the police.”

He looked at me and looked away and looked back.

“No, Madam, you are safe. I wanted to see you because I have had a thing for you for quite some time. I was a police officer at your accident where your friend died, and you were seriously injured. My first name is Maurice, and here is my badge.”

He passed it across the table.

I looked at it. “mmmmm, a detective, so not just police.” I said, reading the badge.

“Mmmm, yes, madam.” He sighed.

“So, Mr. detective, why are you here.”

“Well, Katie, I have some information on the accident.”

I looked at him.

“Ohh, I see,” I said, looking at the book.

He looked at me.

“It would appear, Katie, that your accident was not an accident, and we have found the person responsible. I wanted to let you know in person and seeing that you never answered my calls, so I had to get creative.”

I looked down at the table.

“Ohh, sorry, I do remember those; I just did not really want to know.”

He looked down at the table. “I understand, Madam, sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, looking at him. “So, tell me Mr. Terrence or detective whatever you are, now you have ruined my birthday, which you would know, with all those files and things, I think you need to do something to redeem it for me.”

He looked down and took a deep breath. “Yes, sorry about all of that too, unfortunately, this is the only day off. Would you settle for lunch and then dinner?”

I looked at him, “ I have other appointments.”

“Yes, you probably do, Katie, but you could cancel them.” He said calmly, looking away.

I looked at my wine glass and decided to finish it. “ I guess I could. What is your plan of redemption for yourself, Mr. Terrence?”

He reached over and poured himself some water.

“Anything you like, Katie.”

I finished my glass and swallowed, “Anything I like, well, what do you think I would like?”

He looked at the empty glass as I put it on the table.

“Katie, how about cruising around in an Impala and I tell you about your green light and what it is?’ Lunch at the chandelier restaurant, and we drive to Oxford for the afternoon. Then have dinner at the Flavor of France.”

I looked down at the rest of the meal, then back up to him.

“Mysterious, Good looking and I am sensing a French theme. I guess that is rather enticing. Can I finish breakfast first, and how about you order something you are frustrating me, not eating watching me all the time. While you’re ordering, I will email and cancel my other appointments,”

He smiled. “Of course, sounds like a good plan. I will be back Katie, we can talk about the light and what we discovered in the investigation; if you want, we were given an anonymous tip-off, then it all resolved itself.”

I kind of shuddered, “ Mmmmm, no, it feels a morbid and depressing subject, especially on my birthday. Can we stick to generic stuff like where you grew up and what’s your favorite color?”

He stopped and looked over his shoulder, “ That sounds like first date material?”

I looked at him. “Well, is it not, galivanting around the countryside in a pretty car going out to fancy places to eat?”

I raised one eyebrow at him.

He smiled. “Yes, I guess it is when you say it like that, oh and I am French. I moved here when I was a child.”

He turned to go to the counter inside. And I watched him walk inside. Wondering what else was going to happen today.


About the Creator

Emma White

I am authentically living in a messy world, writing, creating, and painting my way through it all.

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