September 22, 2010
Crop Circle III.
“You have to push a little. Like this.” Abruptly, they were standing in a nice clearing.
“‘Kay.”
Minutes passed. “Try sticking your hand out. And don’t force it,” the older figure added.
“‘Kay.” A strange staggering squiggle veered crazily through the corn. The smaller figure grinned.
A long pause. “Nice job. Next time, try not to crisp the crops,” Nathan suggested.
“‘Kay,” Lith agreed amiably, too happy with her crop squiggles to care.
Crop Circle II.
“So… A little stressed, are we?”
Nathan stalked past his husband without a word. Ekion grinned, and closed the door in some politician’s face.
“What did they say, anyway?”
No response.
“I mean, not that it’s my problem or anything, but you’ve just flattened six wheatfields and a melon patch.”
Nathan sped up. Ekion followed.
“I rather liked the Sierpinski Triangle, myself.”
Nathan turned, looked at him blankly, and walked into a wall.
Ekion smirked.
Crop Circle I.
“You’ve got to sort of push a little. Like this,” said a voice. A wide line appeared in the wheat field.
“Hm,” said a tinier voice. One small tongue poked out of the corner of a mouth, and several minutes passed in silence. Wheat waved a little, vaguely. It might have been the wind.
“No, no. Like this,” said the older man. “Here, stick your hand out and feel it. Good. Now you try.”
“Okay.” Three stalks of wheat obligingly bent.
“Hm. Not bad, but be careful or you’ll damage the stalks.”
“‘Kay.”
“Try bending a circle of ‘em.”
“‘Kay.” A small, grubby hand stuck out, and a six-inch circle appeared in the wheat field. It rather resembled the kind of circles drunken rats might make.
Nathan solemnly looked up at his father. Dag grinned back, and a second ring appeared around the boy’s rather wonky first circle. “Don’t worry. We’ll have you making fine patterns to bewilder farmers everywhere in no time.”
