First Lines

October 15, 2012 § Leave a comment

Her hand inched forward, and then she stopped. Think, she told herself. Did she really want to go through with this?

Often, as a child, he would gaze into the pitch black of the night sky and wonder what was out there. Of course, he had heard stories. Stories of danger and romance, to be sure, but also those alluding to happenings meant to scare children into behaving. Those were the ones that stuck with him the most.

He had never, in all his years of living, thought of such an option. But then again, one’s priorities tend to change when one inexplicably starts sprouting tentacles.

I could, of course, justify it by telling them my motivation for doing so. But, much like the “for want of a nail” phenomenon, it seemed so trivial in the face of what was to come.

Four hundred years had passed since the aliens squashed the last of the human revolts, and yet they felt as if they were missing something vital to their cause.




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