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 |  pieces created in response to prompts |
| I ran into the alien on a bad day. Not for him. He was as put together as he always was, with his black and gold fur caught in a queue between his pointed ears and his teeth polished to a shine. No, it was my day that was bad. I'd just had a final explosive discussion with Michael which led to us parting ways with prejudice. If I recall correctly, several rather rude names were exchanged and he'd dumped my things out the door in a careless pile that I'd cried into as I carried it to my hover car after shoving nearly a week's tips in his hand so that there was no way we wouldn't be square. That was the trouble with friends of the opposite gender. It wasn't a month since I'd broken my last semi-permanent contract, and I'd just wanted a couch to crash on while I got my life together but Michael somehow got his wires crossed and wanted too much. I didn't have enough for a place of my own, especially with my prideful handout at the last. I wasn't a beggar. I paid my way, no matter what he thought. So, there I was, wiping my eyes dry on a pile of laundry and ready to find a better parking space where Michael wouldn't be close enough to call the authorities on me for vagrancy, when I ran into the alien. Everyone knows the aliens. They made first contact when I was a kid, expressed extreme displeasure at the condition of our planet, did something that stopped every offensive weapon in the world, and bought up land all over, until by the time I grew up, everyone had a neighbor or a friend of a friend or had seen them walking through the streets. Apparently, according to the official United Earth pledge that I'd learned in school, they came in peace and defense. Not that I really cared. I'd learned a bit of the language, same as anyone, and enough manners to avoid looking them in the eyes, but most of the time they never bothered with people like me. I'm not smart or special or exceptional. I'm a dancer. I think I'm a reasonably good dancer. But at the club, there are so many better ones, including some aliens who take exotic to someplace I never imagined before I watched them. Sometimes I see them in the audience—and I've gotten some pretty good tips . But they have always felt to me as though they were assessing me as a specimen and finding me lacking. I mean, why would a bird look at someone like me dancing and think I had any real grace or beauty. Any sex appeal. When I've seen how a bird like alien can dance. Some of the women at the club whispered about more. About private dances and more, but I tried to ignore it. I've always been human, all my friends have been human. The aliens intimidated me. I mean, they are just too beautiful in their strange ways. This one, that I ran into, as I sniffled and snorted and probably had a red nose from crying, reminded me of a cat. I've always liked cats, ever since I was small and a kitten showed up at my window. I couldn't keep it, but I named it Leo and looked forward to the evenings when it visited and shared my pillow.. This cat walked on his hind legs, but there was something really strange about his elbows and knees. Green eyes with cat pupils and ears that were pointed and could move independently. A muzzle. Teeth. Sharp, polished teeth. I'd never seen an alien quite like him before. I'm just guessing about gender because he was mammal analogue and I didn't see any female characteristics. I saw him and met his eyes before I remembered about the manners thing and gasped and dropped all my things. Which just goes to show. Or something. Everything can get worse, if I just try hard enough. “Sorry,” I said, a bit choked up, and I bent down to pick up my things. My car was open and there was already a mess of books and makeup and costumes and clothes that I added to, including the wet things. “No apologies are necessary,” he said, and his voice was deep and dark and a bit growly but in a musical way. He had the faintest trace of other in his accent, but that was to be expected. “Can I help you?” “I'm okay,” I said, and slammed the car shut. “That was the last of it, anyway.” There was a shout from above, and a pair of shoes came sailing from Michael's window. The cat caught them without any real effort, looked at them for a moment and then handed them to me. “Well, maybe now, that's the last of it.” I frowned up at the apartment I was never going back to, then turned to my new . . . shoe catcher. “Sorry about that. If Michael knew someone else was down here, he wouldn't have done that. He's just a jerk.” “You apologize too much, little female.” “Sorry . . .” I hesitated and then laughed. “I just wish I didn't get someone else caught in the mess. Thank you for your help.” I turned towards the car. I wasn't quite sure where I should park tonight where I could sleep in peace. I would have to think about it during my shift. I probably shouldn't have dismissed the cat alien so quickly, but it wasn't as though we were friends. “I have given nothing worthy of thanks.” He reached out with the back of a paw and rubbed my cheek. His fur was soft over strong bones. “You are weeping and in need. I cannot shame my mothers by leaving a female so.” I wiped my nose and shrugged. “I'll be fine. Just a temporary setback. I'll find another place, no problem.” I opened the door and started to get into the car, but in a movement that was almost too quick to understand, he had buckled me into the passenger seat, taken my keys, he was sitting in the driver's seat, and we were hovering three stories in the air. “What do you think you're doing?” “You will come home with me, little female,” he said and I could feel the seats vibrating with a purr. “What do you mean, I'll come home with you? I don't even know your name.” I was being kidnapped, but I didn't feel like I was in any real danger. “Call me Leo,” he said. Word count: 1127 Prompt 7: Invite an Alien to Live With You Day (7/21) |
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