High-pitched

Hi all! For this week’s flash fiction story we’re going into space. Please fasten your seat belts and refrain from screaming. No one can hear you anyway!

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The alien leaned over to offer me a drink. It didn’t taste good, but was better than a probe up the rectum. Business class!

“How long will it take to get there?”

The alien answered, but as I had my earphones in (they had Bad Boys II on the TV, and I watch that whenever I get the chance!) I didn’t hear what it said. It smiled though, so I assumed everything must be fine. I went back to my film. How jealous would Will Smith be right now?

If I seem chill, it’s because I get abducted all the time. Ever since I was a kid, I’m used to floating out my bedroom window and being sucked up into intergalactic hoovers. Never had a trip this comfortable, though. I think it’s because I have a photographic memory. I remember everything, so they don’t have to start from scratch every time.

Like I say though, this was the most comfortable trip I’ve taken. Normally I’m on a table lying on my stomach, trying to explain that humans don’t communicate that way. Please remove that probe!

Maybe I’ve been promoted. Perhaps I’ll meet the guy in charge. Or girl, of course. Or… whatever. I hope I get to see the whole film before we get there. There’s no point looking outside, it’s all just black universe out there. What, am I going to try to remember the way? Don’t think so.

Nobody believes me anyway.

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Well, that was weird. I suppose it was like a thank-you trip, or something. They took me to their planet, showed me around. We visited schools, and they showed me their textbooks. In Biology, all humans have my face. You know those drawings? With, like, cross sections, and organs and everything? Male and female? They all looked like me.

And they gave me a silverish ornamental probe with a plaque, then flew me home.

I got the feeling it’s all over. Don’t know if I’m relieved or worried.

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