Crash

Posted on by gmfx

“Funny running into you like this,” Jeff said.

Marci batted her eyelashes in surprise, looking first to their wrecked cars, then back to her co-worker. “Did you just make a joke?”

His head tilted. “Yes?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you joke,” Marci said, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I like it.”

“Yes. Good.”

There was something adorable about his awkward stiffness. She found herself wishing for the conversation to continue. “I am sorry about your car,” she said, feeling that part had to be addressed first.

“Yes. It is thoroughly ruined now,” Jeff said with a simple nod of affirmation. “We are both quite lucky I was not damaged as severely as my vehicle.”

Marci tensed, suddenly worried that she had been misreading the entire situation. But Jeff didn’t seem angry, despite his blunt words. “Wait a minute,” she said, smile returning. “Are you joking again?”

“Yes?”

She moved a little closer, grinning. “So, you want to get a bite to eat when this is done?”

Jeff’s eyes glazed over. As an extraterrestrial, he was far out of his depth here. “Flirting is an enjoyable activity.” he declared.

Marci frowned. “Did you . . . hit your head?”

“Yes?”

* * *

Story by Gregory M. Fox

Darkling

Posted on by gmfx

It was dark. He heard strange, chittering voices close by. What happened? He remembered rain, headlights, a guardrail, and then . . .

He was still in the car. He wasn’t alone. Shapes moving, and those voices . . . words he couldn’t understand. Then a head loomed over him, eyes giving off a pale reflection in the night.

“You awake?” a reedy voice asked. “You come?”

Something was odd about the shape of that head, the shape of those words, the shape of his windshield. In his mental fog, all he could mutter was a hoarse, “Where?”

It seemed to suffice as an answer. A flash of steel in the night, and his seat belt fell away. He found himself outside a twisted heap of metal. Behind him, the low drone of highway traffic. Ahead, starlit darkness into which those small, strange figures were retreating. The last one stopped short, looked back. “You come,” they repeated. He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a command.

He followed anyway. Grass gave way to trees, the sounds of civilization faded. Occasionally, trees parted, allowing moonlight to revealed his companion plainly. Green skin, pointed ears, sharp smiles.

Thrilled and terrified, he continued into the darkling unknown.

* * *

Story by Gregory M. Fox