Log date March 15 0700 hours.
My nerves are raw. My anxiety at peak. I did not enter any REM sleep last night. All I could do is glare at the ceiling for the clock to strike.
Waiting for the alien invasion we’ve expected for sometime is unnerving. We’ve prepared. We’ve trained. But I don’t know if we’ll ever be ready for this unknown.
Log entry 1100 hours
Still no sign of the alien. Staring out into space we’re all on edge, watching, anticipating. Any disbursement in the star field could mean at any moment, it will happen.
In the blink of an eye, life will change. Nothing will be the same ever again. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Just holding on.
Log entry 1500 hrs
You can cut the tension with a knife. No sign of the alien yet. At some point, I wonder if it’s trying to drive us insane biding its time. The watched pot that never boils, as an old saying goes. Or at least I think that’s how it goes. Maybe this is a part of their mental warfare – psyching us out. I’m trying to keep it calm and light, but our nerves are on the razor’s edge. I’m just hoping it will not impact our ability to perform when the time comes… whenever it comes.
Log entry 1900 hrs
Cesar was told to beware the Ides of March. Historically speaking, since he was stabbed and killed, it’s not the best historical day for a battle. But when in the realm of humankind do you ever choose if it’s a good day to die?
We are at a fever pitch. A half an hour ago, we had a near miss. A garbage scour dropped out of warp entering our space and was nearly obliterated by the itchy trigger finger of my gunner. Luckily, I saw it first and prevented disaster. I’m sure that poor sap didn’t think today he would be faced with the admiral’s fleet and a date with mortality.
Still I get the feeling they’re toying with us. To see how far humans can be pushed before they crack. In the case of that gunner, apparently not that far.
Log entry 2000
Damn the admiral’s regimented log requirements. I have nothing to report.
I feel like I’m standing at the precipice, ready to jump.
Gazing into the void, I picture myself floating on air, hopping from star to star. Anything would be more tranquil than holding breath for something to happen. I can’t eat. I can barely think. This is mind numbing. I wonder how long we can last.
Log entry 2400 hours
They nearly missed their day, but one minute ago they broke through. Finally the alien has arrived. I know I will feel different tomorrow, but I must concentrate on my task. It has begun. Help us one and all.
Log date March 16th 0400
It’s over. Or maybe it’s the beginning of a new life. Our former life is unrecognizable. We are entering a complete unknown. The alien is among us. They’ve taken over. Life as we knew it is gone. I get the feeling this new frontier will tax our patience and intelligence. It’s a new dawn.
Author’s Note: This was from a prompt to write something on the Ides of March in a style I don’t usually write in. This is a sci-fi attempt. But even sci-fi can be based on reality. So, this story is actually based on my experience on one Ides of March giving birth to my first child.
(C) Copyright 2025 Suzanne Rudd Hamilton
SUZANNE RUDD HAMILTON 