Flash Fiction

Tormonian Unbalanced

Hey everyone! I think I’m getting my mojo back! I’ve written a couple flash pieces this week. One is currently entered into a contest in a Facebook group, so we’ll see how that goes. But I do have my #SwiftFic Friday response here for your enjoyment! This week we had the word equilibrium along with 150-300 words. It brought me back to my tongue-in-cheek series of flash pieces about the Tormonians exploring Earth. If you’ve missed them, you can find the previous pieces of the story here.

Tormonain Unbalanced

Margoth turned puce and drew its orifice downward. Humans shrieked and made an odd sound he’d learned they called laughter. Tormonians made no such noise. Allegedly it showed joy, though Margoth did not understand why.

“Only one-point-five more rotations and Gorphad will rescue Margoth.”

Its words were lost amidst another burst of noise from the surrounding humans. The vessel humans called a ship splashed through a hydrogen dioxide wave, spraying the occupants. Margoth passed a tentacle over its suit screen to ensure the holographic generator continued to function within parameters despite the repeated exposures to hydrogen dioxide. To its relief, it continued to function as expected.

Margoth glanced around at his fellow travelers. It appeared this venture served a pleasurable purpose for humans but created misery for Margoth. How humans found enjoyment from the odd-looking craft racing across vast bodies of hydrogen dioxide escaped it.

“Roth-Yar, is transmission receiving?” Margoth prayed to Pliknes Gorphad heeded its transmission.

“Transmission received, status update?”

Margoth resisted the urge to wave its tentacles in frustration. “Status update is there is much distress. Request permission to abort mission proximately.”

“Permission denied. Yagaroth has determined mission duration to be two rotations. Should mission duration alter, message will be transmitted.”

The vessel hit a hydrogen dioxide wave again, this time sending Margoth to the deck. “At least that remains similar.”

“Retransmit, last statement not received.” Gorphad seemed to derive enjoyment from Margoth’s situation.

Margoth heaved its body back to what humans called seats, though they were very dissimilar from Tormonian seats. “Disregard, this activity humans call Speed Boat Racing is not enjoyable and affects Tormonian equilibrium significantly.”

Gorphad chirped and severed transmission. Margoth pressed his orifice together and focused on preventing itself from disgorging its most recent meal.

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