Monday, July 2, 2012

The Flight of the Cruller

Ok, so, this is kinda old, but I figured why not post it? So, here you go, the beginnings of a sci-fi tale... Enjoy.

"The Cruller," a piece of shit starship if you ever saw one, barely could make it to the jump-gate without one of the nameless whiz-bang machines--upon which the very life of each passenger depended--coming to some cataclysmic stop. The failures were always in the worst of situations, naturally. Think "The Millennium Falcon," but less reliable.

I don't know why the fat pilot just didn't sell it for scrap metal. Honestly, the damn thing was a joke: it barely held air, and cruising to the Lagrange point jump-station really took forever, and just looking out the dirty, scratched windows I could see at least fifty other ships that just barged in line in front of us.

Just like us, each one of those other ships wanted to warp their way out of the Sol system. Some were business-class; others were luxury pods filled with the over-privileged out for a day-trip to Vega.

And yet here I am, stuck in the back of a bus that barely ran. My family couldn't be bothered to upgrade me to a commercial carrier, no, that was too expensive... Why the hell I had to be the one to go get grandma from Epsilon Eridani, I had no idea. She had a sky-pass, for Christ's sake! She can take the shuttle alone just like everyone else does. Jesus, she's not even sixty yet! God I hate this; and I hate having to travel third class.

The guy next to me smells funny, like a mixture of paint-thinner and vomit. Loverly. And he keeps glancing over at my knees. I know I shouldn't have worn this skirt. If he touches me, so help me God, I will mace him! Fucking sick pervo, he's older than dad!

Sitting here in the fake-leather seat, strapped in for the hour's long trip to the gate, waiting to jump out, next to a drunk letcher, makes me want to punch mom in the face. This whole thing is because of that God-damned email. I've got a print out of that stupid thing in my purse. It's really ridiculous, one email shows up from grandma and all hell breaks loose and I get sent to fetch her like some pathetic body-guard errand-boy...er, girl.

What the hell is up with that? All it said was "Come get me and be careful!" Dammit, grandma, just take the stupid shuttle!

UGH! It's not like this is some kind of spy movie...

And who names a space-ship after a doughnut, anyway?

No comments:

Post a Comment