We head to space today on Drabble Wednesday, with a very colourful voyage…
See the universe, it said.
That damn poster.
Join the Galactic Space Corp.
I should’ve never let it draw me in.
Now I am stuck on this backwater world. Stuck in a dumb menial security gig at the spaceport. And worst of all, I am stuck where everything—and I mean everything, the sky, the clouds, the rain, the soil—is a damn, rotten shade of purple!
Sighing, I lean my body against the bar and signal for a shot of Reposado. The bartender pours and slides the glass over to me.
Oh, frak! Even the damn tequila is purple.
“She loves me.”
He yanked the oversized petal free of the plant, and smiled at the accompanying screech.
He let the violet frond fall from his fingers. It floated softly earthward.
“She loves me not.” Another yank, another screech, and smile. Another petal drifted free.
Repeatedly he took this action, ripping away sections until one last petal remained.
“She loves me!”
He let that petal fall with the others. The last piece in a patchwork of sentient alien flora, a mauve blanket covering a bound and gagged woman.
“You love me.”
The woman and mutilated alien plant wept in unison.
I miss the mountains most of all.
I loved to wake up to that view. With their snow capped, amethyst spires stretching to the heavens, and the lavender mist enshrouding their foundations. The sky painted itself in vivid colour, mauve and tangerine, with a hint of cerise. The hues reflected in the river, tinting the water as it wended through our village. You wanted to fill your lungs with crisp morning air.
Space is nothing like that. It’s frigid and black and the escape pod’s dwindling air supply is stale. I don’t want to die. I want to go home.
© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved