It was the most innocuous of warnings. Nothing more, or less, than an unnatural wind.
Hannah was sat in the garden. The sun was strong, the breeze gentle. But slowly, unnoticed at first, the breeze steadily grew in strength.
The creak of her fence, a sound Hannah had only ever heard during bad weather, was the first she noted something irregular.
She didn’t know it, but it was already too late.
She looked up at an ever-darkening sky. Trees shuddered and groaned, her fence wailed like never before. An unearthly growl roared out through piercing howls.
Then the sky filled red.
Where am I?
John’s covering his eyes. They’re squeezed tight. His head throbs, his mouth dry. He takes a long breath. The searing light subsides.
He’s in a narrow, white room. At the far side, a small box.
No, not a box. It’s moving.
The box-thing races at him; John braces. It leaps toward his face, but far too early; John instinctively drops to the floor. The white room’s boundary welcomes the box-thing with a shocking embrace.
John stands and watches as the box-thing writhes on the floor.
A searing light forces John to cover his eyes.
Where am I?
A red light flashes. No sound, just a slow blink.
Daniel blinks back.
He jumps from his bunk, typing furiously at his personal interface. A holoscreen flicks on, bathing the dark room in an eerie blue glow. The screen brings bad news.
He drops the interface and scrambles up a white ladder to the station’s observation room. It’s no larger than a small bedroom, with three inch tempered glass on all sides.
His eyes trail the lunar elevator all the way back down to the planet below.
A planet which appears to be on fire.
Hello all! I read a reasonably funny tweet this week which inspired this little story. I forget who it was, but thanks, anon!
The impossibly-beautiful maid slid the plate before him. The giant marshmallow – crispy-warm on the outside, fluffy-soft in the middle – seduced all of his senses.
Ben gorged himself, losing all track of time and place.
Finished, he slumped back and tried to breathe. “My my, Mr Ben, quite the appetite you have.” The saucy maid winked.
He smiled. “I left room for-”
The words pierced his befuddled mind.
“Ben! Wake up!”
He squinted as morning sun invaded his reality. A feather-filled cough induced an ungodly pain in his stomach.
His mother’s voice was stern. “Where the hell are your pillows?!”