Ivory and Gold
"The curves of your lips rewrite history." – Oscar Wilde
He called it freedom. A freedom you could allow yourself … or not.
Arthur fixes the deep green pin to his jacket and decides to walk home – it's not far and he could use the air, clear his head a bit. He doesn't look up at the night sky, doesn't think to, until he hears It; that echoing boom, as foreign as it is familiar.
"Make a …" beams of light and heaving metal is rushing towards him but he is utterly still, transfixed by a flying saucer sketched in gold. Arthur shuts his eyes, pulls the pin off his lapel and wants with every molecule, "wish!" pulled form his throat, a scream.
A car with blacked out windows and an absence of license plates crashes into Arthur Stuart, sending him hurtling towards tarmac.
The saucer flutters into nothingness.
And Arthur Stuart lands in 1974.
tbc