“You gotta see this,” he said to his coworker, “it came out of nowhere.”
He led him to the back of the kitchen, pushed and held the heavy metal door open for the both of them. The fan above the door blasted a mix of the cool air from inside and the lukewarm air from outside. As quickly as the fan tore through their senses, the door closed, the fan turned off, and the evening sun gave them a warm kiss and a blast of yellow-orange colored light.
“I was taking out the trash and this thing,” he gestured toward the communal dump to his coworker, “it was hovering over the grease trap. I think it’s an orb, but I’ve never seen one.”
“Orb?” his coworker interrupted.
“You know how I told you about that ghost podcast that talked about orbs the other day? Well, maybe they’re real.”
The two stopped a few feet away from the dump. There it was.
Something. Shifting, rotating, and pulsing.
“Is it a bug?” his coworker said.
“Weird bug,” he said trying to see if maybe there were fluttering wings or something to make the case, “but I don’t really see anything.”
It began take on color and eminate vibrant hues.
The air began to feel charged, similar to being on top of a mountain and your hair begins to rise. A hint of ozone and french fries. Instead of hair rising, tiny droplets began to rise from the grease bin and gravitate toward the spinning orb.
A smell of palo santo and french fries filled the air.
“Is it a fairy?” his coworker asked, “I’ve heard about fairies, but not orbs.”
A crack appeared.
His coworker mutters, “Is it supposed to do that?”
The crack began to grow and wrap around the space around the orb.
“Hmm, maybe.”