It was not a surprise to learn about visitors from another planet, but the Sasquatch angle — furry migrants with birth rights going back to the Ice Age — that was a showstopper.
The average Earth native is excited. The global elite are freaking out. In Washington DC, U.S. President Carmen Benequista is juggling red-hot pokers, and she’s tired of it.
During a lucid dream, Carmen’s deceased husband tells her, “Find someone to share your life.” It’s good advice — Space Mafia executive Brandon Lopez is waiting for a signal, but God willing it should be that simple.
Meanwhile, first-contact survivor Mason Fowlkes, soon to be 16, is growing up fast as an apprentice alien-tech spaceship mechanic. The work life is great; the home life not so much.
Elsewhere, Aéronautique Lieutenant Marie Jourdaine is on the rebound after a brief stint as the world’s youngest female fighter pilot. It’s just as well; the French military is about to exit the aviation business.
In other news, maroli labor appliances are becoming self-aware. Egg-shaped grav-lift chassis. Bio-engineered tentacles strong enough to pull your arms off. Possessed perhaps by spirits of the dead.
Life happens; and sometimes, no matter what’s going on, you have to make it about you.
John Dyer Writes 
This is way better. I couldn’t tell if my lukewarm reaction to your earlier version was a reflection of your writing or my lack of sleep, so I thought I’d mull it over some before commenting. I really like the revision, and it has nothing at all to do with eating chocolate.
Karen Norrell GHOSTWRITER 404.993.6152
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Thanks for the encouragement. It is getting better, isn’t it? 204 words.
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