“Dad, what are all these boats doing?” said sixteen-year old Brandon. He pointed at the boats crowding into to village’s harbor.
“They’re all medical people, son,” said Vince. “They’re here to help.”
Brandon frowned. “I didn’t know we had problems.”
“Well, it turns out our village was founded in a radiation zone centuries ago. Who knew?”
“Radiation? What’s that?”
“It changes people from the norm. Makes them different somehow.”
“But Dad we’re normal, right? At least I’ve never seen anyone who looked weird. Is there something wrong with me?”
Vince clapped him on the shoulder. “Of course not, son. You’re a good-looking boy. Don’t worry. In fact, I understand there’s lots of pretty young nurses in those boats. You might find a good woman among them.”
Brandon perked up. “You think so?”
“Absolutely! Look, here come some nurses right now.”
Brandon grinned large, and he waved with the hand protruding from his forehead.
Written for the Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers writing challenge.