A/N: Just a (hopefully) funny flash fiction 🙂
It was one of those instances where a gasp just wasn’t enough.
Still I gasped.
I suppose I should have screamed, looking back. A gasp seems oddly anticlimactic, but I’d never been the screaming sort anyway. That was more Darren’s kind of thing, but Darren wasn’t there.
And so I gasped, and they gasped, and for a few short seconds we could only stare at each other in silence.
Perhaps it was a good thing that I didn’t scream. When one got visitors, screaming hardly seemed polite, and these visitors had sure come a long way.
“Hello,” I said. Or at least I think I said it. I heard the word, and I rather thought I’d felt my mouth forming them.
“Hello,” one of them said in return, but it didn’t sound like a greeting. It sounded like he – she? It? – was merely repeating what I’d said. Tasting the word.
“I’m Harold,” I told them. “And would you mind terribly to get your spaceship out of my backyard? You’re ruining my petunias.”