Monday, 18 July 2011

story 1.2

Being a natural philosopher was no advantage at a time like this.

Cat1 scratched his armpit idly. Yep, he was lost. He rotated his map to align it with astronomical navigational aids, as he had been taught in orienteering basics. No inspiration.

The next action to try was thus:
"Hey! kid!"

The kid turned his head to the voice above him. Being a young'un, Atilla did not overthink being hailed by a flying saucer hovering over him. It seemed a natural occurrence.

"Yo," the kid replied.

"Where am I?"
"Auckland," said the kid.

Cat1 dropped his jaw in a stunned gape. "Suffering succotash! I should have turned left at Alberqueque."

The kid commiserated. "Yep."

Atilla then asked for help in return. "Can you help me get my mother's mail?" he asked the flying object.

Cat1 considered the matter carefully.

"It's against the law to fiddle with other people's mail," said the flying saucer.

Atilla concentrated. "I'm not asking you to use the post as a violin. I just need some help to get the letters for my mum," he explained.

"It's against the law," Cat1 repeated.

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