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- 03/05/2017
- 533 Words
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- 19 Comments
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Flash Rides - 2. Roswell
Roswell
“Okay, bro, what’s the bitch done this time?” My younger brother and I were close growing up but drifted apart after his marriage. I swear he dipped into America’s basket of deplorables and picked out the worst one of them for his bride. I tried to talk him out of it, but neither I, nor the other family members who agreed with me were able to dissuade him. “Isn’t she out of town?”
He looked up from the suitcase open atop the bed. “She’s cheating on me. And yes, she’s in New Mexico for some sort of convention.” He looked at the stack of clothes he’d dumped on the bed and began sorting them by color. My dear brother was as neurotic as they come. His OCD is a source of both concern and amusement for those of us who love him.
“And how do you know she’s cheating?” My baby bro is known for flights of fancy and believing conspiracy theories. His job as a tollbooth operator for the state’s highway system affords him the opportunity to get lost inside his head. I mean, not much brainpower required while collecting payment from motorists. He’d come up with some far-fetched theories in the past when his mind wandered and his thinking wasn’t entirely logical.
He reached for a piece of paper resting on the bedside table and handed it to me. “She didn’t take her tablet with her when she left, so I decided to use it to read in bed last night. But when I tried to use it, I found an open e-mail. It was from her bit on the side. I think it’s been going on for a while. It has a picture of them at what I guess was a costume party.”
“Forget packing, bro. I don’t think you’ll be in time to stop her.” The picture showed my sister-in-law dressed in what looked like a space suit wearing some sort of shiny device on her head I suspected was made out of aluminum foil. Next to her stood a tall, pudgy man with orange skin wearing similar attire except for his head, which was covered in a yellow helmet-like device. It almost looked like hair but there was no way it could be.
“What do you mean?” As part of his fight against neurotic behavior, my brother steered clear of newspapers, magazines, and TV. His knowledge of current events wasn’t the best, but avoiding media outlets helped keep him away from fake news and alternate facts. It helped avoid his usual bad reaction to what he read. More than once he’d believed what was reported in Breitbart News, The National Enquirer, or other such outlets.
“I know you don’t follow the news so this is something you’re probably not aware of. This year’s the seventieth anniversary of a UFO crash landing in Roswell. There’s been a movement to build a wall around the town to prevent aliens from sneaking into the USA. I don’t think that thing standing next to the bitch is human. Look at his small hands! I think the aliens are here and your wife’s lover is an alien himself!”
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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