I was chosen to write the history of the survivors of the destruction of earth that happened hundreds of years ago. First, a few of us escaped by rocket to the planet of the Azari people for what seemed like three earth years based on the amount that we aged, but we may have been aging faster on a planet that does not match our biological cycles. We can’t be certain. Our atomic clock either broke or was sabotaged, so we could not judge the passage of time. It didn’t help that Azari was illuminated somehow so it was never dark and the temperature was generated internally and remained consistent. I might not have survived it if I didn’t have Sapphire Hendrix, the companion that I had met during the planning for escape from a doomed earth.
…I always wanted to have a shot at some of that inner dialogue speaking to me.
You know the shit that I’m talking about; the ‘Sex In The City’ voice, ‘True Romance’ and me hearing Alabama, or even I suppose, John-Boy from The ‘Waltons’. Any of them would have done and I wanted it to be from me for me.
It nearly happened. Once.
Gleipnok wakes to discover that sometime while sleeping she transformed into a big, hairy Earthling. Legs already hanging from the end of her once roomy sleep pod, she wriggles out and reaches with her mind for her crewmates. Thinking things like, “Ah!” and “Help!” and “I’m a big, hairy Earthling! How did that happen?”
Here we are at Week 214.
I have been thinking on genres that I don’t normally think on.
Locate me in the back row of the church choir. It’s not difficult. Since it’s rehearsal night, there aren’t that many of us, and even fewer if you are looking at the men’s row. That’s me, younger than the geezer profundo over to my left. I’m young enough to be the the son of the forty-something tenor to my right. He sings ahead of the beat. I was pressured to join because I play the piano. Never let them know you can play the piano, by the way—free advice. This is one of my first (respectable) adult activities: the church choir.
It occurred to me during our second date that Mike didn’t exist in real time.
When we first met, he was friendly—cruelty-free, like a human-sized rabbit. We ate at a sub shop, but first, he drove us backwards through the drive-thru of a shuttered restaurant. Big, white truck built for long hauls and first impressions. The perfect way to convey unspecified wants.