Search This Blog

Loading...

Friday, October 21, 2011

2 Years, 3 Months and 17 Days


In space, no-one can hear your lonely cries. They used to send teams up to counter-act the solitude, but they discovered there was a cheaper way to handle it. They gave us the Internet. Inadvertently, they gave us dating sites.

She’s lovely. I type into the chat box and pressed Send.

“Hey.”

“Hey back.”

Whoa, ‘Hey’ never works! Maybe she liked the picture of me skydiving... Maybe there’s something wrong with her.

“So... I kind of stink at this part.”

“What, chatting?”

“It’s not chatting, it’s the first chat. I never know what to say.”

Really. Never. I hate starting with some interest she mentioned because everyone does that. It never works for me. ‘Hey’ never works either, but it’s a lot less to type.

“You’re doing fine. I usually just look at the guy’s interests and find something to talk about. You work in photography?”

It must be different for women.

“Yeah, it’s kind of my life these days.”

“Cool. What kind of photos do you take?”

“Oh, all sorts. Mainly landscapes though.”

“Portraits?”

“Not yet! I’d love to, but I just haven’t identified any willing subjects yet.”

Photographing an IWS. Hehe. Alien humor. Oh. Wait. That could also sound like I’m a stalker, taking photos of unwilling women.

“Hehe, maybe I’ll be a willing subject.”

Phew. She didn’t get the stalker vibe. Or did she?

“That’d be fun. I’d like that.”

“Me too. What did you eat today?”

Awfully personal, isn’t it? Is she going to recommend a colonic if I tell her I ate too much cheese?

“A protein shake and a moon pie.”

Hehe. Moon pie.

“I love moon pies! Not protein shakes so much, though. I had a salad. Oh, and some soup. Oh, and a steak. Rare. With grilled mushrooms.”

Whoa. She eats her steak rare? I think I might be in love. There’s got to be a catch.

“Is there a catch?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was it like... human steak? Do you eat humans because secretly or not-so-secretly, you’re actually a vampire-zombie-other-monster hybrid?”

“Why a hybrid? Why can’t I just be one of those?”

“I notice you didn’t answer the question about eating humans...”

“I eat beef. And chickens. And pigs. And goats. And other fuzzy things like rabbits and sheep.”

Hehe. She eats fuzzy things.

“And children?”

I set the trap.

“And children.”

Snap.

“Aha!”

“You caught me :(“

“I knew you were too good to be true.”

“I don’t eat humans. Assuming you’re human, you’re safe with me.”

“That’s a pretty safe bet. I’m assuming you’re human too.”

I set the second trap.

“I also like pizza.”

Wait, what?

“Uhh.”

Hmm.

“I’m not that big a fan of falafel, though. Maybe I’ve just never had a good falafel. What do you think?”

“I think you’re avoiding my question.”

“Did you ask a question?”

“Yeah, sort of. Not really. You are human, right?”

There’s no escaping me now!

“Yes.”

Nuts.

“Phew.”

“So, you seem kind of weird, like me.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Nervous question...

“Yes.”

Excited reaction!

“Yay!”

“Want to get a drink?”

Yes!

“I really do, but I can’t for a little while.”

“:( When are you free?”

Sadness.

“2 years, 3 months and 17 days.”

Plus 16 hours, 23 minutes and 39 seconds. 38 seconds. 37 seconds.

“I don’t get it.”

“My job keeps me away.”

“Oh. So why are you even on this site right now?”

“My job gets a little lonely.”

“Oh, I can understand that.”

“Yours does too?”

She’s like me!

“Hell no, I’m with people every day.”

Burn.

“Oh.”

“What are you doing that keeps you away for 2 years?”

Truth is sexy, right?

“I’m in the Glass Eye.”

“You’re in the Glass Eye.”

“Yes.”

The Glass Eye?”

“The one and only.”

“Hmm.”

Oh.

“Well, that’s not true.”

 “I didn’t think so.”

“I’m in the Glass Eye, Mark II. The first one blew up.”


This is not the Glass Eye. Really.
            “The space station that takes pictures from space and stuff.”

“Yep.”

“So, you’re in space.”

“Yep.”

“What time is it there?”

“There aren’t time zones in space. What time is it for you?”

“It’s 9 here.”

“At night?”

“Yeah, at night.”

 “Are you at home?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m guessing you’re not.”

“Home is where you hang your hat. Or space helmet.”

I forget what my other home looked like, anyway.

“You have a space helmet? That’s awesome!”

“Yeah, though we space people just call them helmets. It’s kind of a thing.”

“Naturally.”

“What are you wearing?”

Perv.

“Perv. What do you think?”

“A trench coat, galoshes, large sunglasses that you only wear at night, a parasol, and nothing else.”

“How did you know it was raining inside my house?”

“The Glass Eye sees all.”

 “What are you wearing?”

“Nothing at all. The Glass Eye is blind to itself.”

“Is that sanitary?”

“Probably not, but it cuts down on laundry.”

“Hard to find a good Laundromat in space?”

“You have no idea. And there aren’t enough change machines so I’m constantly breaking bills to save up quarters.”

“I hate that.”

We’re kindred spirits!

“Me too. If you’re feeling uncomfortable about my nudity, you could take off your parasol. And the trenchcoat.”

“I’m way ahead of you. I’m not even wearing the sunglasses now.”

I think I love her.

“How’s the weather?”

“Not too bad, considering there’s no atmosphere and I’m in a perpetual state of solar eclipse.”

            “Sounds nippy.”

“My nipples are fine, thank you very much.”

Well, I never!

            “Mine too.”

But I wish I did. It’s not too late!

“What’s your name? Just the first.”

            “Cutie-pie.”

“Cutie-pie?”

            “Yeah, that was my first name. Then they wised up and put Cassandra on the birth certificate. Cassie.”

Cassie.

“It’s nice to meet you, Cassie. I’m John.”

            “How unique. Doe?”

“Don’t be silly. Smith.”

 “Heh. I need to log off, John Smith. Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure. I guess I could be watching the stars instead of meetpeeps.com.”

“See you, space cowboy.”

2 years, 3 months and 17 days.

Same time tomorrow.


5 comments:

  1. So, I wrote this for the NYC Midnight 2011 writing competition. My genre was open, my location was a space station and my random object was a glass eyeball.

    I don't think this story is what the judges were expecting with those criteria but I kind of liked it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ha, I liked it. 2 years, 3 months and 17 days - is that how old you are on the MUD now? ;p

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hehehehehehe no. :P I'm barely associated with the MUD anymore except as an occasional firefighter. I don't know what the significance of the duration is; at least, not consciously ;)

    ReplyDelete
  4. When do you find out you won?

    ReplyDelete
  5. I found out about a week or two ago...not a lot of points >.< I still had placement (top 15), but it was very low (I think 13th, compared to 8th placement for the cell phone story). Oh well. It was fun :)

    ReplyDelete