L3M0N

As far as pieces of crap cars went, it was middle of the field. The paintwork had scratches, but no missing bits. The windows didn't work, but the aircon did, kinda. It was a couple decades old, but not enough to be vintage. It worked, but needed a minute to warm up.

Most everyone assumed I just couldn't afford a better one, but the fact was, I used it as a litmus test. If you made a comment, you were either a car person, or you thought I'd care about your opinion.

And I really hate talking about bloody cars.

Scouting Ahead

The first contact with extraterrestrial beings was going fairly well, until they asked a question through their translation device.

"Why do you say this is first contact? What happened to our previous emissary?"

There was a brief pause as the humans all looked at each other.

"You mean the one 70 revolutions or so ago, in Roswell?"

"No?"

The humans blinked.

"100 cycles ago, in Russia, there was an explosion-"

"No, not then."

"...

Jesus Christ???"

"No, the advance scout last week!"

We eventually tracked them down in Ibiza, where they were having a fun time, which helped smooth things over.

Weighted Choices

I moved as quickly as I could, while remaining silent, and got into the car before any of the zombies could get me.

Yes, I know that's not what we're supposed to call them, but really, dead brain eaters, what else do we call them?

As I thought about my next move, I saw that the keys were still in the ignition.

I had a choice. If the car worked, I could drive away. But if it stalled, I'd just draw attention. I weighed up my options.

I turned the key.

My inability to drive should have had more weight.

Spotting The Problem

You can see the problem fairly easily.

I'm unhappy, as I don't have any real love in my life, at best just acquaintances that tolerate me.

So I try the methods that society tells me to. I go out and try to meet people, I join clubs, go to bars, everything.

And eventually, I find someone.

And things go ok, at first. But then, inevitably, because I'm not used to this, I fuck up, they leave, and I'm back at square one.

So you see the problem, right?

What? No, not my problem, the problem of all these people sucking.

The Twins

The twins had been running through the forest for what felt like hours, until they stumbled upon a cottage hidden behind some mossy stones.

They'd have kept running, but the delicious smell coming from it made their stomachs growl, and they slowly approached.

As they reached the door, it opened, and an ancient looking woman in black looked at them.

"Are you the witch?" The girl asked.

"That's what some people call me. They're right, in a way.

"Do you eat people?"

"That's what some people say. They're wrong."

The twins missed her mumble "in a way" under her breath.

3, 2, 1

As she began the take-off procedure and pulled away from the spacedock, he looked at the box and then back at her.

"You do realise that the entire Citystation will be after us now, yes?"

"I do, but I also realise three other things.

One, it'll take a few minutes for the various powerful people to realise I don't work for any of them.

Two, this Citystation was built over centuries, piecemeal, hence the wildly different sections joined by several, but not many, linking chambers."

Explosion reports flashed on the screen.

"And Three, Crazy Boc'la-Ack had discounted shape charges today."

Grieving The Future

How long do you grieve the future?

Time will continue, probably, there will be a day after today, and another, a future still exists.

But the future I expected, it wasn't grand or spectacular. Things would mostly stay calm, progress would be slow, too slow, but it would at least happen.

That's gone now.

And what's worse, is that I, we, have gone through this before. We survived, many didn't, but at least we thought we had learned, and would do better now and in the future.

But here we are. And here we will remain.

If we are lucky.