After a l-o-n-g hiatus, I thought it might be time to return to the fray and submit a 100 word story to Friday Fictioneers again. I hope I haven’t become too rusty. I can feel my flash fiction joints creaking and groaning as I write, but nevertheless, here goes.
Many thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers.
“It was here. I’m sure.”
“But where are the shelters, the food tents? We can’t land here, in this bleak, soulless place. It’s worse than home.”
“Remember, friend — at home we were persecuted, starved out or hunted down. And home is a lifetime away. There’s no returning.”
“So now what?”
“We decide. Drift through space until the ship dies, or stay. We’re strong now. We have knowledge — to share or use against this planet. After all, they once welcomed us.”
“Look. There’s a sign. It says: New border security policies are now in force. Aliens attempting entry will be destroyed.