†he sal†moon monoli†h

Maybe these new vibrations were a classic Jungian psycho-panic, but her gut feared the worst.

Fresh grumblings and odd sightings had been reported in recent weeks - a sure sign something foul was brewing.

There hadn’t exactly been harmony these past years since the stupid monolith, but things settled. Many’d got used to it being around, though she never did.

The older heads remembered the 1970s only too well, and any sniff of that spooky shit being boiled up and served again sent spines shivering across town.

The monolith was more a sideshow car crash...a distraction. 

A dog walker discovered the ten-foot edifice out on Spibey Point, with no evidence of preparatory excavation. It caused quite a stir in the MSM, one in a series appearing worldwide from Nevada to North Shields.

They suspected another near Fishguard, in the north of the county, but it turned out to be an abandoned fridge-freezer, fly-tipping having escalated in the wake of civic amenity site closures.

Boffins from University of South Wales locked horns and scratched heads, taking samples for analysis but results were inconclusive.

The shocking arrival attracted hoards of glassy-eyed interlopers; terrible new-age warriors, live-streaming from fixed-up VW Transporters. Cosmic Insta-influencers fluttered in and out on the breeze, glowering into smartphones, high as fuck on likes.

It incited a spiritual pilgrimage. Devotees of numerous deities flocked to the sacred ground, demanding enlightenment at the foot of the mystical erection. With none immediately forthcoming, the local constabulary grew concerned as to what their collective plans were, going forward.

Conspiracy theories ran amok. Paranoid residents accused local councillors of installing the monstrosity under cover of darkness in a bid to increase tourism, claims flatly denied by the authorities.

Others suspected the work of a Banksyesque enfant-terrible, some kind of attention-seeking art pervert. A crowdfunded plaque was proudly installed by South Pembs UFO Society hailing the work of the Pleiadians. 

Due to the increasing number of incursions, angry locals staged a 'Say No To The Monolith' campaign.

Rabble-rouser Dorothy Anklëbiter chained herself to the surrounding railings, shrieking;

- We shall overcome. The devil has arrived in sal†moon! We have been waiting. Watching. Listening. No good can come of it. We shall overcome. We shall overcome!

But her deranged end-time fears were unfounded and the allure faded.

After the TV network vans left town, the candlelit vigils snuffed, the monolith became yesterday's news, abandoned to elemental mercy. Local yoots, fired up on skunk and buckfast, dressed it in lurid street art, occasionally attempting to topple it.

And then, one day, it vanished. 

But this was much more than that. This crept inside her bones...like when she was a child.

Such a weird fucking place. This whole area...these people.

What's wrong with them? 

Why am I here? 

Oscillating between then and now, the unstable energy fed her disquiet and she scanned the cliffs.

The silhouetted wreckage of the abandoned air base dominated the bluff.

It had all been put to bed, hadn't it?

She went cold.

If it was starting up again, could she get any sense out of Mother? Her shoulders couldn’t carry the weight of all this bullshit again.

A rebalancing was underway...a cosmic debt to be paid. Not a time to scarper…