Tele-Grams

                The TV was on though I was barely paying attention as I sank into the couch. I stretched to the table to grab some chips, my hand landing on an empty bag. I reached down to the floor; two empty bottles of soda, an empty bag of jujubes, and no chips. I might have to actually get up if I wanted to get something to eat. The thought of pushing myself up and walking the ten feet to the cupboards was draining. It was easier to turn back to the TV and tune out that gnawing desire to consume junk food.

                The TV went dead, the channel cut out leaving me with nothing to stare at but the snow channel static – something I hadn’t seen in a decade at least – the background radiation dating back to the Big Bang. A chaotic and random assortment of static. Except…

                Except…

                There, a flicker on the screen. And then another. Then a long one, more noticeable. Short. Long. Short. Short. Long. Short. There was something there, a pattern, a deliberate move. Someone, or something, was trying to communicate. Cutting through to send me a message. I grabbed some paper and began jotting down the sequence, a repeating pattern in Morse code. This could be it, my moment. While everyone was toiling away their meager existence, I was doing something greater. I was chosen – something was communicating with me from the stars, or beyond. All I had to do was decipher their message.

                -.. — -. .—-. – / ..-. — .-. –. . – / — .. .-.. -.-

                What the fuck?