I recently participated in a writing prompt exchange with K.J. over at kj86chapman. She gave me a wonderful prompt that I spent ten minutes with and came up with the very short story you can read below. Hope you enjoy. 🙂
Oh, the original prompt looked like this:
“What the hell is that on your roof?”
“Oh, that’s just some sciency crap of my brother’s. He’s trying to communicate with extra-terrestrials. Lame, I know.”
Does it always blink like that?”
By the way, if you wish to send her an original prompt of your own, click this link.
“What the hell is that on your roof?” my friend Kevin asks as he stares through the open window carved into the side of my tree house.
“Oh, that’s just some sciency crap of my brother’s,” I say from the window carved into the other side. “He’s trying to communicate with extra-terrestrials. Lame, I know.”
Kevin is a space nut. He likes stars and planets and galaxies and supernovas and black holes and worm holes.
“Does it always blink like that?” he asks.
“The extra-terrestrial? Sure.”
Me? I prefer doughnut holes.
“That’s a real alien sitting up on your roof?” he gasps.
“The correct term is extra-terrestrial,” I say, still peeking into my neighbor’s house through the other window with my small telescope. “He gets so offended when you say the ‘A’ word.”
I’m searching for something interesting to look at. Not that I ever find anything interesting. Sure, there are times I’ve caught Mrs. Hanson undressing, but really, it’s not like she wears a secret agent suit under her clothes or anything. The second I spot her, I turn away as quick as I can. My older brother says she’s MILF, but he won’t tell me what that means.
“Wait,” Kevin says, still in shock. “How did you get an alien on your roof?”
“What did I say about the ‘A’ word?”
“Fine!” How did you get an extra-terrestrial on your roof?!”
I wish he wouldn’t yell like that. The last thing I need is for dad to come up to the tree house again and tell us to keep it down because mom’s trying to study and she can hear us all the way in the house house.
“Mike!” he exclaims. “How?”
“That’s just where he and my brother decided is the best place to send a signal.”
How can Kevin act like it’s a huge deal? It’s just an easily offended extra-terrestrial sitting on our roof, helping my brother tinker with some techy crap ‘cause my brother’s science fair experiment accidentally crashed his ship and now my brother wants to help him flag down another ship so he can get back home.
I step away from my small telescope, failing to see anything good at my neighbor’s house.
Plopping onto my bean bag as Kevin won’t quit gawking out the window carved into the other side of the tree house, I groan, “Nothing interesting ever happens.”