They were trapped for seven days. The airlocks were blinking green and somewhere in the deck below, the supports creaked and machinery rumbled. My little brother continued playing his hand-held game, while the rest of us tried to make contact with other ships.
We were floating above the 3rd moon, it's deep northern crater eying us like an angry cyclops. We had barely made it through the atmosphere before the alarms went off and the ship stopped. Somehow, we had been flagged with contraband and the authorities were on their way up, checking through the nether regions first.
A message...
The cold bit at her toes. Pulling them to her body, she peered over the top of her blanket. The world was beginning to come alive. People hurried on there way to work, lights flickering on across the pale grey skies.
It was an odd time of day; it brought with it relief and pain. She was glad of the sound, the sights of other people. The nights grew monotonous, full of nothing. Every minute seemed like hours, every hour like days as nothing but black emptiness stretched out before her. As day broke, cutting through the darkness, she often...
It was quiet down there. With only 2 days to go, the travelers unwrapped their last portions - bits of cheese, the last remnants of the dried ham, a couple of flagons of water to wash it all down - and proceeded to feast. This was the home stretch; already, they could see greenery creeping onto the pitch-black walls, illuminated by the faint cracks developing in the rough rock.
It felt like their memories, too, were being rearranged. Some had already started to forget how they got there; the winding caves leading to their nook were receding into the darkness...
They were trapped for seven days, four storeys down, in a subway car.
Just the two of them.
Midfight, mid-breakup, mid-life-altering-altercation, the lights had flickered. Then gone out.
In the darkness Jake had offered a tentative "Hello?" and chuckled quietly.
Cooper had shouted back. At the moment they realized the darkness would not abate, that help would not come, that they were trapped, they'd retreated to opposite ends of the car.
Cooper flipped the emergency switch and forced open a door. A rotting stench flooded the car.
Doors shut again they studied the opposite end of the car.
On the...
"The key to the door is lying on the floor, a meter and a half to your right," it instructed. The more it spoke, the more unnatural it seemed to Jolene, the more artificial. Synthesized.
Slowly she followed its directives, feeling along the stone-cold floor in the dark. "Be quick," it admonished her tonelessly.
Finally her fingers brushed it; her pounding, she seized the key and stumbled her way back to the door. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to be calm, and carefully inserted the key into the lock. To her relief, it turned, and the door moved...
"Where did you come from?"
The little devil sat on my hand.
"I'm from your head. I'm here to distract you."
He pried the pencil from my fingers and heaved it above his head.
"You won't be needing this anymore."
He tossed it down, into the trash.
"Hey! I need that!"
I needed to study for my standardized tests tomorrow.
"You don't need that. You need this."
He got up from my hand and patted my closed laptop.
"Why would I need my laptop?"
The little devil danced atop the shut black device.
"What are your friends up to? What's...
"Your team is to find the contact code-named Scurvy."
"Scurvy? Boy, he sounds pleasant."
"Actually, she's quite humorous and accommodating. You'll understand when you meet her."
"What time should I set out."
"Now."
"Great, thanks. I'll take my own rig."
At 0800, I landed on the beach where Scurvy was waiting for me. She didn't seem particularly pirate-like in any way. I handed her the documents, she scanned them, then threw them in the air and set them aflame with a snap.
"So why do they call you Scurvy?"
She stopped mid-stride and leered at me. Hilarious, indeed.
"We've got...
then it picked up, it picked up like the coming of an ocean born storm. Not a movement in the air; a few dark clouds separate. Aeros licks your face, sending a chill down your spine right to your sacrum, right down into the earth: grounded. Crystalized. Everything becomes clear yet remains fractal. You sat down next to me. Your thick accent warming me up on this cold afternoon. But your not present, your a another world away, its probably the middle of the night. Maybe your enjoying a midnight snack.. maybe your thinking of me too. And maybe the...
I wish I had something to say
But every idea I have just sounds HEY!
ARE THOSE BUTTERFLIES!
IN OCTOBER!? She cries.
Attention Deficit Disorder's the theme of my day.
Once I had a bad case of food poisoning,
So bad, I called my ex-wife loudly moaning.
I projectile vomited with pride.
The guy next to me died.
When the bill came, I resumed my groaning.
That's it?
No **it?
That was terrible.
You are horrible.
Sunday was when we went. Dad wanted to leave on Sunday so we could avoid the McDonald family, who spent every Sunday molting on the front lawn. Last year, Mr. McDonald's head fell off. He grew another one the next day. Only now his hair was green and he could shoot laser beams out of his eyes. Also, he shat turnips. But enough of that.
We climbed into the station wagon and turned right onto Fallinott Street. The street was named after Lucas Fallinott, who lived in Detroit. He invented the toothbrush in 1762.
As we drove, we saw Mr....