“What is this you’re watching?” asked Linda.
“Not sure.” said Herald.
He’d only sat down a moment ago, after walking home, and the TV had already been on, the show looked to be something Sci-Fi but nothing he’d ever seen.
“You just get in?” asked Linda.
“I did.”
“Greg bring you home?”
Greg hadn’t brought him home. Greg had made him walk after making him sleep off a drunk in the smaller of the two cells.
“You tell him thanks?” she asked.
“Thanks for what? He didn’t bring me, he stuck me in jail.”
“Thanks for picking your drunk a** up off whatever pile of garbage he found it on.”
“I don’t wanna talk ‘bout it.”
Herald seldom wanted to talk to his sister anymore. These days she always had a criticism loaded in the chamber, ready to fire at him. He was only crashing here til he got his CDL back.
“You know Greg doesn’t need this from you, Herald? He’s got problems all his own.” said Linda.
“We all got problems. I didn’t ask him to get into mine.”
“Didn’t leave him much choice neither. Getting drunk and stumble bum, way you do.”
Herald stood to leave, but slumped back into the cushion. His brain still swimming in last night’s gin.
“You need to get your s**t together lil brother.” said Linda.
“Bah.”
Linda left, probably for work. Herald wasn’t sure what time it was but the light grey haze outside said it was still early. Another fall day. Probably another crisp one, probably another cold one, probably another drink would warm him up.
“Linda, I’m gonna go out looking for something today.” said Herald.
His sister didn’t reply. Herald stepped into the kitchen.
“I think maybe Pug would give me something. Remember Pug?”
He checked the driveway, looking for her car. Made sure she really was gone. Then Herald settled down into the bottle, into the couch, into the television. He wasn’t going anywhere today… wasn’t going anywhere ever.
“Just gotta get the court to give me back my CDL, then I’ll be good.” he said.
Whatever this show was, it was weird. Definitely some Sci-Fi s**t, all blinky lights and glowing whatnot. Some lady, whoever she was she looked to be in charge, was walking down a dim corridor with a couple of other someones following. Not a one thought to turn on a light.
“Turn on a light, idiots.” said Herald.
The leader lady turned on a light then one-by-one all these overheads started clicking on, revealing a much larger area out ahead of them. Some sorta spaceship. Then these secondary green lights started clicking on to reveal all these chicks wearing onesies.
“What’s this?” asked Herald.
“What’s going on here Captain?” asked one of the someones on the show.
“I’m not sure. Call the ship.”
The bigger of the two men grabbed a radio-ish thing off his shoulder. One of the someones approached the onesie girls.
“I wouldn’t do that.” said Herald.
“Best not to touch anything.” said the Captain lady.
But it was too late.
The lady someone had touched one of the onesie girls and now the girl had her eyes open. They were purple, which Herald thought was a neat effect. Purple with their own sorta glow, like they somehow produced their own light.
“Now y’all are in for it.” said Herald.
“Everyone keep close. Triton, have you got the ship?” said the Captain lady.
“Com-links are down.” said the big guy.
“Well that ain’t good.” said Herald.
Whatever this show was, it was engaging. Herald sipped gin from his secret bottle, the one he kept tucked in the arm of the sofa. He’d pulled back part of the fabric to get the bottle in place and, so far, Linda hadn’t sniffed it out. It was one of three he had in the house.
“These guys are f**ked.” he said.
The onesie girls had all woken up at once. Hundreds of these purple eyed beauties unplugging their bald heads from the green lite machines, surrounding the small group of someones. The Captain lady was trying to keep the big guy calm… but he was ready to boil, Herald could tell.
“Big dudes gonna start some s**t.” said Herald.
“Triton, hold back. They’ve made no move to attack.” said the Captain lady.
“Rather not wait ’til they do, Cap.” said the big dude.
“Your out numbered dude.” said Herald.
The Captain lady said the same thing, making a quick speech about violence not being the answer and them being hopelessly out numbered. The big guy was holding for the moment. Then the purple eyed onesie girl said something that made Herald p**s himself.
“The bridge between will surely fail.”
– – –
Greg sat behind his desk in the township building.
His office was little more than a closet, tucked behind the furnace room. The two ‘cells’ in his ‘jail’ were really just bedrooms without windows. If anyone wanted to, they could kick through the drywall and squeeze right out of his little prison.
The only common spaces were the conference room and the lobby. During regular hours the lobby was home to Tina, the receptionist, who lacked discretion and the conference room smelled like a**.
The building also had; an office for the township supervisor, who was never in his office, a bathroom, a small kitchenette, and a storage room that the road crew guys used.
So, Greg sat behind his desk in his closet office and thought.
Thought about what’d happened last night. “Your world will not survive.” is what she’d said, Greg wasn’t sure what she’d meant. So he thought about it, until his phone rang.
“Sheriff’s office.” he said.
“Greg?”
The voice was Herald’s.
“You make it home alright?”
“Sheriff turn on the TV.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Turn to channel 42.”
Greg didn’t have a television. There was one in the lobby, but Tina had brought it from home and had made it abundantly clear, on numerous occasions, it was her personal set. She ruled the dial and the dial was set to soaps.
“That lady from last nights on TV.”
“What?”
“She’s on the TV, Greg.”
“Let me call you back.”
Greg hung up and started for the lobby.
“Tina turn the television to 42.” he said.
Tina wasn’t at her desk, but the TV was already on. Already turned to 42.
“Your world will not survive.” said the bald woman in the onesie.
Herald had been wrong, this wasn’t the lady from last night. First, there were probably a hundred of them… all the same but each different… and second, these women didn’t have eyes. Not regular eyes at least. These ladies had glowing purple eyes that lacked both iris and pupil.
“The bridge between will surely fail.” said another of the onesie women.
“What the f**k?” said Greg.
“Captain, we need to get outta here.” said one of the ladies on the show.
“This just doesn’t feel right.” said a Hollywood sorta handsome fellow.
“The ship isn’t responding to our calls.” said a big dude.
The onesie women were surrounding the group, pressing in closer. Then the screen went to black and ‘To Be Continued’ crawled up from the bottom, stopping in the middle.
“What you watching?”
The voice put a jolt through Greg and he spun round, startling Tina who then spilled her tea.
“S**t.” said the receptionist.
“Sorry.” said the Sheriff.
“You scared me half to death. What’s your problem?”
Greg didn’t know where to begin, but he know he wasn’t gonna start telling anything to Tina.
“Nothing. Sorry. I’ll help you clean this up.”
“I wish you wouldn’t change my channel Sheriff. I’m gonna miss my stories.”
“Sorry.”
Greg stood in the lobby of the township building and thought.
Oh… this should result in a good chapter. I’ll have to think on this one.
This could be the chapter that you already wrote, but I have to cut it down to just four to be the interrupters.
Life, the Universe, Everything –
“What is this you’re watching?” asked Linda.
“Not sure.” said Herald.
He’d only sat down a moment ago, after walking home, and the TV had already been on, the show looked to be something Sci-Fi but nothing he’d ever seen.
“You just get in?” asked Linda.
“I did.”
“Greg bring you home?”
Greg hadn’t brought him home. Greg had made him walk after making him sleep off a drunk in the smaller of the two cells.
“You tell him thanks?” she asked.
“Thanks for what? He didn’t bring me, he stuck me in jail.”
“Thanks for picking your drunk a** up off whatever pile of garbage he found it on.”
“I don’t wanna talk ‘bout it.”
Herald seldom wanted to talk to his sister anymore. These days she always had a criticism loaded in the chamber, ready to fire at him. He was only crashing here til he got his CDL back.
“You know Greg doesn’t need this from you, Herald? He’s got problems all his own.” said Linda.
“We all got problems. I didn’t ask him to get into mine.”
“Didn’t leave him much choice neither. Getting drunk and stumble bum, way you do.”
Herald stood to leave, but slumped back into the cushion. His brain still swimming in last night’s gin.
“You need to get your s**t together lil brother.” said Linda.
“Bah.”
Linda left, probably for work. Herald wasn’t sure what time it was but the light grey haze outside said it was still early. Another fall day. Probably another crisp one, probably another cold one, probably another drink would warm him up.
“Linda, I’m gonna go out looking for something today.” said Herald.
His sister didn’t reply. Herald stepped into the kitchen.
“I think maybe Pug would give me something. Remember Pug?”
He checked the driveway, looking for her car. Made sure she really was gone. Then Herald settled down into the bottle, into the couch, into the television. He wasn’t going anywhere today… wasn’t going anywhere ever.
“Just gotta get the court to give me back my CDL, then I’ll be good.” he said.
Whatever this show was, it was weird. Definitely some Sci-Fi s**t, all blinky lights and glowing whatnot. Some lady, whoever she was she looked to be in charge, was walking down a dim corridor with a couple of other someones following. Not a one thought to turn on a light.
“Turn on a light, idiots.” said Herald.
The leader lady turned on a light then one-by-one all these overheads started clicking on, revealing a much larger area out ahead of them. Some sorta spaceship. Then these secondary green lights started clicking on to reveal all these chicks wearing onesies.
“What’s this?” asked Herald.
“What’s going on here Captain?” asked one of the someones on the show.
“I’m not sure. Call the ship.”
The bigger of the two men grabbed a radio-ish thing off his shoulder. One of the someones approached the onesie girls.
“I wouldn’t do that.” said Herald.
“Best not to touch anything.” said the Captain lady.
But it was too late.
The lady someone had touched one of the onesie girls and now the girl had her eyes open. They were purple, which Herald thought was a neat effect. Purple with their own sorta glow, like they somehow produced their own light.
“Now y’all are in for it.” said Herald.
“Everyone keep close. Triton, have you got the ship?” said the Captain lady.
“Com-links are down.” said the big guy.
“Well that ain’t good.” said Herald.
Whatever this show was, it was engaging. Herald sipped gin from his secret bottle, the one he kept tucked in the arm of the sofa. He’d pulled back part of the fabric to get the bottle in place and, so far, Linda hadn’t sniffed it out. It was one of three he had in the house.
“These guys are f**ked.” he said.
The onesie girls had all woken up at once. Hundreds of these purple eyed beauties unplugging their bald heads from the green lite machines, surrounding the small group of someones. The Captain lady was trying to keep the big guy calm… but he was ready to boil, Herald could tell.
“Big dudes gonna start some s**t.” said Herald.
“Triton, hold back. They’ve made no move to attack.” said the Captain lady.
“Rather not wait ’til they do, Cap.” said the big dude.
“Your out numbered dude.” said Herald.
The Captain lady said the same thing, making a quick speech about violence not being the answer and them being hopelessly out numbered. The big guy was holding for the moment. Then the purple eyed onesie girl said something that made Herald p**s himself.
“The bridge between will surely fail.”
– – –
Greg sat behind his desk in the township building.
His office was little more than a closet, tucked behind the furnace room. The two ‘cells’ in his ‘jail’ were really just bedrooms without windows. If anyone wanted to, they could kick through the drywall and squeeze right out of his little prison.
The only common spaces were the conference room and the lobby. During regular hours the lobby was home to Tina, the receptionist, who lacked discretion and the conference room smelled like a**.
The building also had; an office for the township supervisor, who was never in his office, a bathroom, a small kitchenette, and a storage room that the road crew guys used.
So, Greg sat behind his desk in his closet office and thought.
Thought about what’d happened last night. “Your world will not survive.” is what she’d said, Greg wasn’t sure what she’d meant. So he thought about it, until his phone rang.
“Sheriff’s office.” he said.
“Greg?”
The voice was Herald’s.
“You make it home alright?”
“Sheriff turn on the TV.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Turn to channel 42.”
Greg didn’t have a television. There was one in the lobby, but Tina had brought it from home and had made it abundantly clear, on numerous occasions, it was her personal set. She ruled the dial and the dial was set to soaps.
“That lady from last nights on TV.”
“What?”
“She’s on the TV, Greg.”
“Let me call you back.”
Greg hung up and started for the lobby.
“Tina turn the television to 42.” he said.
Tina wasn’t at her desk, but the TV was already on. Already turned to 42.
“Your world will not survive.” said the bald woman in the onesie.
Herald had been wrong, this wasn’t the lady from last night. First, there were probably a hundred of them… all the same but each different… and second, these women didn’t have eyes. Not regular eyes at least. These ladies had glowing purple eyes that lacked both iris and pupil.
“The bridge between will surely fail.” said another of the onesie women.
“What the f**k?” said Greg.
“Captain, we need to get outta here.” said one of the ladies on the show.
“This just doesn’t feel right.” said a Hollywood sorta handsome fellow.
“The ship isn’t responding to our calls.” said a big dude.
The onesie women were surrounding the group, pressing in closer. Then the screen went to black and ‘To Be Continued’ crawled up from the bottom, stopping in the middle.
“What you watching?”
The voice put a jolt through Greg and he spun round, startling Tina who then spilled her tea.
“S**t.” said the receptionist.
“Sorry.” said the Sheriff.
“You scared me half to death. What’s your problem?”
Greg didn’t know where to begin, but he know he wasn’t gonna start telling anything to Tina.
“Nothing. Sorry. I’ll help you clean this up.”
“I wish you wouldn’t change my channel Sheriff. I’m gonna miss my stories.”
“Sorry.”
Greg stood in the lobby of the township building and thought.
– The End