Henrietta's Last Conversation
Lali Wildeboar


When I woke up this morning, there was a white statue standing before me. Missing both her arms, her left nipple covered by fabric carved from the same marble as her skin. In her eyes a gaze most unfamiliar. Not quite haunted, as if she came from elsewhere. Like her face said, ´I am not of this Earth.´
I live alone and I can assure you, no hands come prying my doors open at night, no stranger shares my bed and my windows stay locked. This statue must have broken in on her own, maybe that’s how she lost her arms? My friend Carl said he had never seen a bust such as she, in all his years at the museum.

Officer, could this be some strange prank? A ploy for some unexplainable profit? Or a greater threat we have not yet come to understand?
I have her with me. I brought her in this silver bag. Isn’t it pretty? I bought it at Nordstrom. Anyhow, I know she looks rather plain, but if you tilt her just so… See? She begins glowing. Isn’t that interesting? I wonder if maybe she once was alive and got frozen somehow. I saw a special on History Channel about aliens. It said they’re already among us, and have been for a long time now. Maybe she’s one of those.

Could you tell me how to secure the doors and windows in my house? I can’t have people coming in and leaving extraterrestrial relics at night. I know where I’m from, and I know where I’m going, and I require all my decor to have the same principles.


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