Written for Sunday Photo Fiction. A story, about an encounter with far-reaching implications, begins after the photo.
Genre: Science Fiction/Humor
A Volatile Encounter
“Are they still back there?” he asked as he drove down the road.
The alien in the truck beside him turned and looked back. The alien atmospheric attack craft behind them was in full stealth mode, and Terrance couldn’t see it if he tried. But the alien with him could see more into the infrared and ultraviolet. She looked back with turquoise-colored eyes and sighed impatiently. “Still there.”
Terrance tried to focus on navigating the winding road through the vineyards in his pickup. The alien craft behind them was armed with two 127 Megajoule plasma cannons that could turn his truck into slag in an instant. If they somehow survived that, each of the craft’s four crewmen were armed with assault guns that could blast through a giant redwood with a single shot. Beads of sweat slipped down his neck.
“I don’t understand why you’re so nervous,” said the alien.
It wasn’t the escort vessel behind them that concerned him. He looked over at her. She was breathtakingly beautiful. It was about the only clue that she wasn’t human. She could’ve passed as Indian or perhaps Thai, but she was born on a planet 127 light years from Earth. He’d met her after being recruited on Earth by the alien Karyllian Consortium 5 years before. Their whirlwind romance had taken both by surprise. She had his heart the first time she looked at him, and his very soul the moment of their first kiss. Now, after fighting beside her against hostile aliens and surviving many close brushes with death, he faced his greatest challenge.
“They can’t be all that bad,” said Biracca.
“You don’t know my parents.”
“Is my dress too short? It’s a Human design.”
“No, it’s just fine.”
“My accent. It’ll put them off.”
“No! They might actually like it,” he assured her.
“Okay. Seriously. It’s because I’m an alien, isn’t it?”
“No, no. I think they’ll be okay once they understand that aliens actually exist.” He slowed and pulled into the drive of the family winery.
“Then what are you worried about?”
Terrance winced and shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know how to tell them my fiance doesn’t like wine!”
Each Sunday, Alastair Forbes offers up an original photo as a writing prompt for flash fiction. Find out more here: http://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2014/04/13/sunday-photo-fiction-april-13th-2014/