Quiir

July 31^st, 2023

Just some random thoughts…

            Before the B’quiiri came, everyone talked about alien invasion like it was a plague. Movies and TV shows were made about all different kinds of aliens, each kind with their own purpose (like that old show Doctor Who), but all of whom were bent on either enslaving or destroying Earth. I don’t know where the stereotype came from, since we hadn’t previously had contact with any extraterrestrial civilization. But the B’quiiri shattered our preconceived notions about aliens and made us wonder why we’d endorsed those scary movies in the first place.

            Maybe one reason they weren’t as intimidating as we had been prepared for was the fact that they were no more “advanced” a civilization than we were (they too had just made the upgrade from cell phones to telecoms, although they used different names). Both of our races had been exploring space for some time, searching for “other life.” They just happened to stumble across us before we found them.

            It was a pretty big deal, that first contact at the edge of the solar system. NASA’s people had been on their way back from another fruitless expedition to Neptune when suddenly this other vehicle appeared on their sensors. Since the voyage had been streaming live to every viewer with a TV or access to the internet, there was no covering it up or pretending that other ship wasn’t there. Of course, the world basically went into panic—unnecessarily, we found out later. Although, I think the panic would have been greater had they not been humanoid. Sure they have blue skin and weird noses, but other than that they look pretty normal, at least from what I’ve seen in the news.

            Anyway, I guess the reason this stuff is on my mind is that today’s headline was “MERRITT ISLAND BREAKS GROUND ON SPACEPORT.” I guess it’s actually happening. Washington D.C. and NASA have been talking for awhile about building a spaceport that would facilitate visits from the B’quiiri (and maybe even allow us to visit them! civilians, I mean…obviously NASA’s already sent people there). This is so exciting! Something tells me I’m going to see a lot of change in my lifetime. Who knows…maybe by the time I’m a grandma I’ll have even travelled to Quiir myself!

            I turned off my grandma’s old tablet and smiled at the irony. She hadn’t been there yet, but she was only 62…plenty young enough for an interstellar journey if she didn’t wait too much longer. She was right about one thing: she had seen an enormous amount of change since writing this. I think the spaceport opened in 2026 (long before I was born), and my mom got a job there as an intern when she was only 16, which was 2044. By that time the B’quiiri were making regular visits as tourists, and some of them liked it so much they decided to stay. I was born four years later, and since my jerk of a dad had left my mom when she got pregnant, I basically grew up in the spaceport, surrounded by the pale blue, cat-nosed people.

            When I was 16 I made a B’quiiri friend. His name was Eyqre (“Acre”), and he and his parents had come for a week-long vacation, just to see what the fuss was about. By this time I had the same internship my mom had when she was my age, and I relished showing new arrivals around (and trying not to laugh at their confusion). Technically, I wasn’t supposed to give the tours, but my mom was in management and she knew I could handle myself. After all, I had practically been raised in the place.

            After Eyqre and his parents had been fitted with aud-loquits to eliminate the language barrier, I took them to the screening room. Film screening, I should say, not medical. They joined the 20-some other B’quiiri waiting to see the 15-minute “Earth orientation” documentary. I went to the control panel and started the film. “Welcome to Earth,” the soothing female voice began. I walked to the back of the darkened room and leaned against the wall. I usually tuned out during the movie…I think I could have recited it word-for-word.

            You’d think we would have a medical screening for visitors to the planet, but that was one thing the Quiir government had insisted on—no scientific testing of any kind. They did let NASA run one B’quiir through a couple harmless machines back in the 20s, just to prove that they weren’t carrying any terrible diseases or anything. They passed to NASA’s satisfaction, but the scientific community was kind of miffed that they couldn’t properly examine this new species.

            Years later, when the two planets were in talks about allowing civilian visits, a bunch of scientists somehow convinced the government that humans and B’quiiri mingling would be dangerous since we hadn’t studied them thoroughly. And so, with some arm-pulling (and rumors of politicians being paid off), the “No-Contact” statute was issued. No human was allowed to have any direct physical contact with a B’quiir, and vice versa. Some conspiracy theorists were convinced that the scientific community had suggested the statute because they were sure it couldn’t be kept, and when a B’quiir slipped up they’d be ready with handcuffs and needles. Whatever the actual reason, the statute turned out to be a good idea, as we’d learned over time from a few accidents that touching them set off our soma-scanners. I guess since the devices came with standard programming that predated the B’quiiri’s first visit, even skin-to-skin contact with something so foreign set them beeping. A low alert, but still annoying. The B’quiiri had since taken to wearing long gloves whenever they visited Earth, and I swear sometimes I saw them rolling their eyes as they pulled them over their six-fingered hands.

            I absentmindedly tapped a rhythm on my soma-scanner, embedded in the back of my left hand. Click ca-lick click click ca-lick click click. The familiar “Thank you, and enjoy your visit here” roused me from my musings. I gave the rest of the tour and ended at the door that led outside. With their silver eyes wide, the visitors filed out quietly. Before his family got to the door, Eyqre—although I didn’t know his name then—detached himself from the crowd and approached me.

            “Hello.” He said it slowly, still adjusting to the mental influence of the aud-loquit.

            “Hi,” I said cheerfully. “Did you enjoy the tour?”

            “Very much,” he said, smiling. “Are there really almost 8 billion people on this planet?”

            “Yep, and that number just increased by about–” I looked around him at the dissipating group, “30.”

            He chuckled. “Well, I hope the Earth likes me.”

            “You seem polite,” I replied. “What’s not to like?”

            He smiled, and then his mother called him. “Goodbye Miss–” he looked at my nametag, “Miriam.”

            “Bye,” I said, waving as they went out the door.

            A few days later, Eyqre came back to the spaceport and introduced himself properly. He told me that his parents were having a blast, but that they weren’t paying him much attention and that he was lonely. He apologized for being upfront about it, but told me that I was the friendliest human he’d met thus far and that his favorite experience on the planet had been my tour. If he had been human, I would’ve called it flirting, but he was too new to the planet and awkward to flirt. Turns out he just needed a friend. On my lunch break we took a train to Orlando and I gave him a proper tour. We enjoyed ourselves so much that we decided to do it again, and for the rest of the week I spent my lunch breaks with him. We went to the Wildlife Refuge and the Space Center—ironic, I know, but he wanted to see the human perspective on space—and on our last day before he and his family departed, we stayed at the spaceport, eating PB&J (which he couldn’t get enough of) and talking about our different races and how oddly similar we really were.

            I missed him after he left, but then they came again about a month later. After a third and fourth visit his parents liked it so much that they decided to move to Earth, and Eyqre enrolled in my high school. They weren’t the first B’quiiri family to move to Earth, but Eyqre was the first at my school. Eventually he learned to ignore the stares, but on more than one occasion he assured me that he would never have survived if not for me. That always made me smile.

            I helped him acclimate to the culture as best as I could, and we always did our homework together. Come to think of it, we did just about everything together. We became inseparable, and I’m sure everyone at school thought we were dating. We knew better, though, and sort of laughed at everyone else for not realizing that we simply enjoyed each other’s company. Ok I’ll admit, maybe there was a deeper attraction between us, but it was mutually understood that nothing could ever come of it.

            But then one day, he kissed me.

            It happened the spring I was 17, 10 months after they had moved to Earth. We were at a park near my house, sitting in the grass with our backs against a wide tree, pouring over our Algebra 2. He had just explained to me for the umpteenth time what a logarithm was (culture was my area of expertise, math and science not so much), and then we were silent for a few seconds. Then he looked at me with a non-math-related spark in his silver eyes.

            “Miriam?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Do you ever think­–” he trailed off.

            “Yeah?”

            “I wish…” And then he just leaned over and kissed me. Just like that. He took me by surprise, but I didn’t pull away.

            Then my scanner started screaming. I jerked my head away and swore, wishing there were a way to silence it. I examined the device. ‘ALERT LEVEL 5: FOREIGN CONTAMINANT’ was blinking at me in angry yellow lights as the thing continued to blare its alarm.

            “Crap,” I said. “Now the nearest hospital is going to think I’m dying or something.” I turned to Eyqre, and saw his face had gone pale. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “I’m sure it's fine. This thing just doesn’t recognize B’quiiri DNA.”

            “Miriam,” he said fearfully. “The statute.”

            I blinked. I had entirely failed to realize that he had just committed a serious crime. “Oh crap,” I repeated. The scanner had finally gone silent, and we just stared at each other for a second, thinking through the implications of what had just occurred.

            “What if we just pretend this never happened?” I asked. “I won’t tell anyone.”

            “But that thing sends a signal to a hospital, right? Someone nearby knows something’s wrong.”

            I bit my lip. “Uh, ok. I’ll, uh, go home and gargle something really strong and then when the paramedics show up I can just claim this thing malfunctioned.”

            “Do you think that’ll work?”

            “Got any other ideas?”

            He shrugged.

            “Then it has to work. We might as well try. If you end up in prison who’ll help me with math?”

            That got a small smile out of him.

            But it wasn’t the paramedics that showed up at my door. It was two men in black suits. They questioned me about being in contact with a B’quiir, and I lied through the whole conversation. When they found out I worked at the spaceport they relaxed a little, but I still felt like they were just waiting for me to slip up and give Eyqre away. They questioned my mom, too, who appeared completely oblivious, but I had a funny feeling she had worked out what had happened. As soon as they left I ran up to my room, trying to hold in the tears. Eyqre wasn’t safe. Even though the men were gone, I knew they wouldn’t be content until they dug deeper.

            I called him on his telecom. He knew my voice well enough to hear the tears in it.

            “Miriam? What’s wrong? Did the paramedics come?”

            I told him about the men in suits and that I was sure they would find out which B’quiir I kept company with. I’m sure they could find out where I went to school, and anyone there would tell them what they wanted to know.

            He was silent for a minute. Then he sighed. “Miriam, I’m so sorry.”

            “Sorry?” I sniffed. “What for? It–” I took a shaky breath. “It wasn’t your fault.”

            “Not my fault?” He actually chuckled. “I’m the one that broke the statute.”

            “Well…” I couldn’t come up with a satisfactory reply. “I’m still not going to let them do anything to you.”

            “How do you plan to stop them?” he asked. I could hear the smile in his voice.

            “How are you so calm?” I said rather angrily, avoiding his question.

            He drew a long breath. “I’m not. I’m scared stiff. But smiling makes everything seem like it’ll be ok.”

            I shook my head. I couldn’t decide whether his approach was genius or stupid. After a moment I said, “You know they’ll probably be at your door by tomorrow morning. Evening at the latest. We have to do something before then.”

            “Like what?”

            “Like…” I took a deep breath and said the first thing that popped into my head. “Like run away.”

            “What??”

            “I don’t know…it’s the only thing I can think of. Do you have a better idea?”

            He sighed again. “What if…” he paused, and I knew I wouldn’t like whatever he was going to say. “What if I just own up and pay for my crime?”

            “No,” I said. The thought of Eyqre locked up for who knows how long threatened to bring back the tears. “No.” I knew a lot of scientists had been itching to get their hands on a B’quiir to really study for years. This might be just the excuse they needed to make some wild claim like he belonged to the government as a criminal against Earth or something. Maybe the conspiracy theorists were right. I’m not sure if our two races had set boundaries for any kind of diplomatic immunity yet.

            I wasn’t about to reveal the extent of my paranoia to Eyqre, but I had to convince him not to turn himself in. “Eyqre, I’m not sure they would just put you in prison. They might find an excuse to make it even worse for you. Not everyone in the world is as keen on your race as we are.”

            He was silent for a minute. “You really think running away would be better?”

            I had him on my side. “What other choice do we have?”

            Silence again. Then, “Well, I guess you’re the expert. I trust you.”

            I smiled.

            That night we left our homes, with one bag each and no destination in mind other than the west coast, where quite a few B’quiiri families had chosen to settle, and where—we hoped—no one would think to look for us. I left a note for my mom, with a postscript asking her to burn it. Writing it was hard. But Eyqre needed me, and Mom didn’t. I shut my mom out of my mind so I wouldn’t cry, but I also tried not to think about what my school friends would think, or when I would see the spaceport again, or how the heck two teens on the run would survive for long. We would figure out all that stuff later. For now we just had to leave. Eyqre left a note for his parents too, telling them that some people might come around asking questions, assuring them that he was all right, and apologizing over and over. We left our telecoms behind, figuring they could be used to track us. A few days into our journey, I began to suspect that my scanner might send out information to more places than hospitals, so Eyqre, as gently as he could, cut it out with his pocketknife. It hurt like anything, but his presence was calming, and he bandaged my bloody hand afterwards.

            When he kissed me again, I told myself the pain had been worth it. 

Our Lady's Mercy

*Ok, this one's a little weird. It's a micro-story (also known as flash fiction; usually 300–1000 words), and the assignment was to create a sci-fi or fantasy Thanksgiving-themed story. So this is what I came up with. Enjoy!

            In the sixth year of the third age of Milankra, (one thousand, six hundred and twenty anno domini by the humans’ reckoning), a strange thing happened that has never happened before or since: the great lady of the sea let a victim go. I, Milankra’s handmaid, document these happenings to prove that there did exist one time when Milankra was merciful. It happened this way: we became aware of another vessel of humans traversing the waters above us, and we alerted Milankra, as were our orders. She awoke from her deep slumber and fixed her thoughts on the craft above. Containing just over one hundred and thirty of the bipeds, this would hardly constitute a meal for her ladyship, but she bade us fetch this one anyway.

            During our journey to the surface (which constitutes several of the human’s days—how quickly time must pass for them!) we were alerted by Milankra to halt. Sending us her thoughts through the water, we learned that she had discovered something about this vessel that she found interesting. In the time the humans call Ahktowburr, on this tiny vessel, a new human had been born. We strained our minds, and heard the bipeds call it “Oceanus” after the surface over which it was born. Why this new human’s presence gave Milankra pause, we were not told. We were simply ordered to turn around and return to our mistress in the depths.

            Upon returning we found her again in hibernation. To the time of this chronicle, none have ventured to ask Milankra about her one moment of mercy. I feel it may have been due to her sadness that she would not again reproduce in her life cycle, but I have never voiced this opinion, being in doubt of it myself. We continued to watch the vessel as it reached its destination, and afterward observed the humans as they gave thanks to their god for safe passage and provision, unaware of how close they had come to being taken into our watery depths. 

Learning to Jump

            The stagecoach, although large, was crowded. It smelled of too many bodies and horses and distance. Miles and miles ago the seven strangers had begun their journey chatting amicably, sharing stories and gossip, inquiring about each other’s destination. But now, seven or eight hours since leaving the capital city, all was quiet, each member of the assorted company sleeping or lost in his own thoughts. One traveler had been quieter than the rest from the beginning. The first to board the vehicle, he had secluded himself in a corner, drawn his long, tattered black coat around himself, pulled his dirty hat down over his eyes, and appeared now to be deep in sleep. He avoided conversation as a matter of habit, and feigning sleep was an easy way to fend off nosy albeit well-intentioned questions.

            Abruptly, the coach halted. Those asleep were jerked into consciousness, and a couple of people knocked heads audibly. All was silent for a moment, and then murmurs of a heated conversation came drifting down to the travelers from the driver’s seat. The man in the corner sat up, slightly annoyed at being pulled out of his musings. He pushed his hat back from his eyes, revealing a young face that despite his age looked weary of the world. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and a scraggly light brown beard was trying to make its appearance. With a dirty hand he pushed a stray piece of hair from his forehead, then leaned forward and opened the window opposite the door. The voices became more distinct.

            “What do you think you’re doing? Gimme back those reigns!”

            “Boss, I don’t understand. Why are we taking a road that’s not on the map? We had a route planned before we left.”

            “I–uh–think we’d better save a little time by going through the woods. It’s–it’s more convenient.”

            “But people avoid these woods for a reason! I had a friend just up and disappeared in there. I’m not making this up. People go in and don’t come out.”

            “Aw, you’re just yelleh’. What’s wrong, do you need your mummy here to hold your hand? I don’t care about any old wives’ tale. Going around would add hours to our trip…no one wants that.”

            The quiet traveler leaned out the window and addressed the speakers. “’Scuse me.”

            The driver and his companion fell silent and twisted around to see a head sticking out of the window.

            “Might you be good enough to explain our delay?” the owner of the disheveled head asked.

            The younger of the two on the top seat snorted. He hadn’t imagined the strange, hatted traveler had any manners.

            The driver shot him an angry look and replied, “It’s nothing, sir. This little boy here,” with a sideways glance at his companion, who was at least seventeen, “is scared of these woods. Nothing to mind. Only some silly stories.”

            “They’re not just stories! It’s true!” Turning to the head protruding from the window, the youth continued. “They say something odd lives in these woods. Something else. Something that doesn’t belong.”

            “Oh come off it,” the driver snarled, with a cuff to the back of the boy’s head. Then, turning back to his passenger, “We’re just taking a shortcut that’ll put us all in the city before suppertime. There’ll be no more delays, sir, I promise.” He snapped the reigns, having reclaimed them from the boy, and the stagecoach, leaving the main road, veered onto the narrow path that led away into a dark wood.

            The traveler pulled his head back inside and shut the window. He was immediately assailed with questions from the other passengers who hadn’t heard the exchange. Once they were satisfied with his brief answers, he settled back down in his corner, and found a pair of eyes on him.

            They belonged to the only child in the vehicle, a little urchin of about seven, with straggly blonde hair and a smudge on her nose. It wasn’t directly obvious whose child she was; she showed no particular affiliation with any of the adults in the coach. She was holding what could only be described as a doll, but it looked at if someone blind had put it together. It appeared to have a multitude of limbs, or maybe one of those was a long neck. In any case, it was obvious that this child lived in some form of poverty. He felt the slightest connection to her at that realization. They had something in common.

            Uncommon as the action was for him, he gave her a small smile. She grinned and hugged her doll more tightly. He turned his gaze back toward the window. Although it was only early afternoon, it looked more like dusk outside. The forest was so thick now that the trees were competing for air space, and had formed an immense canopy stretching for miles in every direction. Were it not for the rocky path they were on, it would be impossible to orient oneself in this maze.

            The stagecoach stopped again. Rolling his eyes, the young man prepared to open the window again, when a strange sense he couldn’t name told him something was wrong. He looked around at his fellow passengers and found them all asleep. He thought this a little odd…surely at least a few of them had been awake mere seconds ago. Then he noticed that he had missed the smallest member of the company: the little girl was the only one awake, staring at him again, this time with fear and confusion in her expression.

            “I’ll figure out what’s going on,” he assured her.

            She remained silent. He opened the window again and called to the driver. No response this time. Strange. He withdrew his head, shut the window and clambered out of the crowded space, stepping down onto the path. He started in surprise when he saw the driver and his companion both asleep as well, the youth’s head on the driver’s shoulder and the driver snoring uproariously.

            “Hey!” the man called. There was no reply. He reached up and shook the driver’s arm as hard as he could. Still no response. “WAKE UP!” He yelled, loud enough to wake anything sleeping for miles. However, the inhabitants of the coach slept on. Suddenly the little girl was on the path beside him, still clutching her other-worldly doll.

            “It’s alright,” the man said, trying to reassure himself as well as the child.

            “Will you help me find my mommy?” she asked. The strangeness of the question made him pause before answering,

            “Isn’t your mommy in there?” as he pointed to the coach.

            She shook her head, swirling her dirty hair around her face. Tugging on his sleeve, she walked to the front of the coach and pointed ahead and off to the right. “She’s in there.”

            He furrowed his brow. “She’s not in the woods. What about your daddy? Is he in the coach?”

            She shook her head vehemently and kept pulling his sleeve toward the forest. “I need to find my mommy! She’s this way. Please help me!”

            Her eyes were huge and sad, and a less rational person would certainly have been swayed by her plea. However, the young man knelt to her level and put his hands gently on her shoulders. She released his sleeve.

            He spoke slowly. “I don’t understand. Why do you think your mommy’s in the forest? No one goes into this forest. There’s nothing in there but trees.”

            “No!” she declared. “She’s in there. I was supposed to come too, but I got lost. That’s why I travelled with you.”

            “You got into a stagecoach all by yourself to come here? To the woods?”

            She nodded. “Yup, and I told them to take the shortcut. This is where I was supposed to go!” Taking hold of his coat, she began pulling him toward the woods again.

            Her belief that she had any say in the route of the coach made him smile. Then he stood and looked doubtfully into the trees. He turned and looked back at the coach. The entire company was still as peaceful as anything. He looked back into the woods. The child was still eagerly pulling on his coat.

            Finally, shaking his head at his foolishness, he decided to humor the girl, but told himself that he would not go far enough to lose sight of the coach. At his first step in her direction, the girl gave a giggle of delight.

            “Come on,” she said, smiling. “You can meet my mom and my dad and my cousins…”

            He stopped abruptly. “Wait a second, how many people are lost in this forest?”

            She giggled again. “Not lost, silly. I’m lost. But once we find them I won’t be lost anymore.”

            He sighed. He had never quite understood children, but was aware of their intense imaginations. This must be a game to her.

            As they continued walking he kept checking over his shoulder for sight of the coach, still exactly as they had left it. He tried to think what could have possibly come over everyone. Were they drugged? Was it in fact something about the forest, as the youth had claimed? And why was he, out of the six adults on the coach, the only one still awake? Questions without answers seemed useless, so he shrugged it off. After this little girl was satisfied that her family was actually elsewhere, he would return to the original problem.

            Finally they reached a point where he was beginning to second-guess whether he could actually still see the path. Yes…that was it. A needle-thin line on the forest floor that was a lighter-colored dirt and not covered in leaves. The coach had already disappeared, obscured by the trees that were as thick as two men and spaced no more than three or four feet apart. He stopped walking. The girl pulled on his coat and frowned up at him.

            “We can’t go farther or we’ll forget the way back,” he explained. “See?” He asked, gesturing at the woods. “There’s no one here.”

            “We haven’t gone far enough!” she complained, still pulling at him.

            “Listen,” he knelt again, “there is no one in this forest but you and me.”

            She looked like she was thinking about believing him, and her face grew frightened. “But­–but…they have to be here! We were all coming together! I just got lost because I came the wrong way.”

            “What do you mean, ‘came the wrong way’? How did you lose your family in the first place?”

            “Well, I’m still learning how to jump. I usually hold Mommy’s hand and she takes me, but this time I tried it by myself.”

            He shook his head to clear it. This was a stretch, even for this wild little creature. “Jump? What in the world does that have to do with anything?”

            “We jump here from home. Didn’t you?”

            He had no reply. Either the girl was having a ridiculous game with him, or she was legitimately insane.

            She continued. “You had to jump. There’s no other way to get here. I knew you weren’t one of them.” She pointed toward the stagecoach. “Otherwise you’d be asleep too.”

            She instantly had his attention.

            “Asleep? How…do you know why they’re asleep?”

            “Of course. I made them sleep so the vehicle would stop. Just like I whispered in the driver’s head that we should take the shortcut.”

            He stood and took a step away from her, telling himself again that she was just playing a game. However, that strange sense he couldn’t identify was whispering to him, saying that she was right. He shook his head again.

            “Who–who are you?” he asked slowly.

            “I’m me!” she giggled.

            He was getting angry, and decided he was finished putting up with this nonsense. “Come on,” he said sternly. “We’re going back.” He turned around, but a cry of delight turned him back. The girl was running away into the forest. He drew breath to call her back, but then saw that she was in fact running toward someone. Whomever she was meeting was too far off to see properly. He swore under his breath and started jogging after her.

            As the other person approached he saw it was a woman, and as she swooped the child into her arms he saw that she had been crying. He stood a few feet from the reunited pair, panting. After the child was done being cuddled, she squirmed out of the woman’s arms and ran to the man.

            “Look!” she exclaimed. “I told you she was here!”

            “Yes…I guess you were right,” he said hesitantly. He noticed that the woman was staring at him curiously, much as the little girl had done on the coach.

            She spoke softly to her daughter. “And who is this? He…belongs with us, no?”

            The little girl fixed the young man with a fierce stare that he met with confusion. After considering him for a moment, she answered her mother. “Well, I think so. But he’s awfully strange. I think he’s lost here, too.” She giggled. “He doesn’t even know what jumping is!”

            The woman examined him closely, nodding in agreement with her daughter.

            Finally, exasperated, he spoke. “Please, I’m sorry. I don’t understand at all. Who are you? What are you doing here in the forest?”

            The woman gave a small smile. “You don’t belong here, do you?”

            “Here in the forest? Certainly not.”

            She shook her head. “Here on this planet.” He was silent. She smiled again, seeing his confusion. “We—my family and I—jumped down for a little vacation time, but this one didn’t time her landing quite right.” She tweaked her daughter’s nose affectionately.

            He shook his head again, becoming more bewildered by the second.

            The woman chuckled, seeing that her approach wasn’t working. “Perhaps it will be easier if we show you. We’re not supposed to leave this form while visiting the planet, but,” she glanced around at the woods, “I think it’s safe, for a second.”

            Then the young man began to wonder if he actually was asleep with the rest of the passengers and simply dreaming, because the woman and her daughter started changing shape right in front of him. Their clothes melted into their bodies, their arms and legs grew, and more limbs sprouted from their torsos. Their necks stretched up and their hair shrank in, and finally standing before him were two creatures of a soft pink with eight indistinguishable limbs each, four of which they stood on. The mother (he assumed) was now two heads taller than he was, and the daughter a head shorter. The daughter also appeared to be covered with extremely fine white hair or fur (he couldn’t decide which), so fine that her pink skin showed clearly through.

            With a start, he realized that they looked exactly like the misshapen doll the girl still held. He staggered back a couple steps, trying to catch his breath.

            “Now you realize,” said the mother, her voice now deeper and more resonant but still female, “that we would never have shown you this were you completely human.”

            It took him a moment to find his voice. “What do you mean? I’m not human??”

            “No. At least, not entirely. Have you never suspected it? You don’t belong here.”

            He considered this. He would have passed this off as himself going crazy, were it not for the fact that, in the farthest reaches of his mind that he was never quite conscious of, he had suspected it. Not that he was from another planet, of course, but that he didn’t quite belong here among all these…humans. The word suddenly seemed foreign. He had never known his parents. Perhaps it was possible that they had been strangers here as well, as the two beings before him certainly were.

            “How…” he paused, not sure of the question he was trying to ask. “Do–do you think I belong on your world then?”

            “I think it likely. Why don’t you come and find out?” She offered a slender, four-fingered hand.

            His heart stopped beating. He looked back toward where he thought the coach must be, although he could no longer see it.

            “They’ll be fine,” she said with a smile. “I’ll awaken them once we leave.”

            He looked back at the hand she offered. Then another hand, smaller and downy, presented itself.

            “Come on!” the girl whispered excitedly. “Jump!”

Introduction

        You may be familiar with my other blog, allmypaperfriends, in which I write reviews of (and recommendations for) some of my favorite books. While I do enjoy writing nonfiction like that, I've always been in love with creating my own stories as well. The vast majority of these are in various stages of incompleteness—quite a few still in the idea stage—but this past semester I took a creative writing class, for which I wrote several short stories.

        I'd never previously been a fan of the short story. It always seemed to me that a story worth telling should take a long time to tell (or read), because the longer the journey the greater the reward, right? Not necessarily. The writing class challenged me, but I genuinely enjoyed my experience and I really like what I got to write as a result of taking it. I intend to write more material in short form in the future. It's nice to finish something.

        And so, after a lot of second-guessing this idea, I've decided to put some of my “babies” on display for the world to see. Now realize that these are my paper babies for two reasons: 1) they're my own creation, and 2) compared to my paper friends, these are decidedly younger and less experienced (or at least their mommy is). So...be nice to them, but also feel more than welcome to give feedback, positive or negative. After all, friends don't let friends' kids steal cookies, pull the cat's tail, or play in the mud when they're supposed to be clean. If you have suggestions about how I can  “raise my babies” more successfully, or just questions about my parenting decisions (loving this metaphor), please, please voice them. The comment box is right

                                                                                                                                                                                    down

                                                                                                                                                                                                  there!

Enjoy!