Friday Fictioneers 5-13-2016



The airship floated, flashing blue across upturned faces, stairs unfolding slowly beneath. A rustle of excitement stirred the crowd, polyglot of language rising like thunder. This day had been foretold, when, as one people, they would look into the sky and find, not empty space nor dead stars, but stranger’s eyes looking back at theirs.

The alien stumped down the steps. Reared on two legs, one gangling appendage to either side of its trunk. Rounded ball matted with fluff overtop two sunken eyes, bony proboscis and a wide mouth.

The alien raised an arm. “Greetings, Aliens, from President Bono the 12th. Take me to your leader.”

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