\ ˈdi-sə-nən(t)s \

noun

1. inharmonious or harsh sound; discord; cacophony.

2. Music .

1. a simultaneous combination of tones conventionally accepted as being in a state of unrest and needing completion.

2. an unresolved, discordant chord or interval.

* disagreement or incongruity.

1.

The cloud cover rolled over the mountains like a blanket being pulled up to the chin of a frightened child. That's really what we were now when you get right down to it. I had never seen Glacier Peak from such a high angle before, and looking across to its crown gave me vertigo. I set down in Old School Park; nothing more than an overgrown field of washed-out memories now.

Stolen story; please report.

Killing the engines, I took a deep breath to steady myself. There was no signal and no idea of what to expect in my old hometown. I prayed that it wasn't watching, knowing that it was likely the only one that heard prayers now.

2.

He had been my high school science teacher. Old and wizened as he stood before me on his porch, shotgun raised and trembling. The air was thick and oppressive. It was in this moment that I realized I had forgotten the smell of pine. I looked at him but did not SEE him. I recognized him by his glasses alone.

He asked me my business. The old man didn't recognize me, but I didn't expect him to. I said that I was looking for a place to stay; looking for information and shelter. He said that one of those things was a dirty word now, and was about to say something else... but that's when the wailing started.

3.

The plate of pork 'n beans slapped down on the table, nearly spilling as the wailing continued outside. The geezer looked at me expectantly, fingers caressing the trigger of the boomstick. I hadn't eaten a hot meal in days, and the smell of the canned provisions wrung my saliva glands dry. I brought the steaming spoon to my mouth, touching my lip before a screaming thought ripped through my brain, stopping me so hard I shook.

"If I'm actually able to eat this… Are you going to fucking shoot me?" I asked my weathered host.

"And what makes you think that I would be able to tell if you ate it, eh? Have you even had a real encounter yet?" He cackled wheezingly before muttering something about me being green and turning to fix himself a plate.

I admitted that I had not, and asked him to educate me – just like all those years ago. He agreed, and the chorus of banshees tore at the fabric of reality outside.