50wordstories.ca

When the aliens came, we weren’t ready for them

They came as friends, but we took them for conquerors

They wanted to share their culture and science

We thought they were trying to assimilate us

So we attacked.

And they left.

And now we’re all alone.

Quarantined civilization.

Xenophobic doom.

And there you have it (for now.)  To emphasize the fact that the song is in three parts, the recording will be made up of three distinct-sounding parts.  Each of the three 50-word segments has its own rhythm, and they will be linked with something special (which I haven’t devised yet…)

Now, in order to catch up to the back-log, I still owe you another story.  This will come later tonight.

When you get your dead whale, you’ll find it hard to move around.

You can try getting help from friends, or you can hire.
You can get a crane.
You can manipulate gravity fields.
You can use magic.
You can pray.

There must be fifty ways to heave your blubber.

Two enemy pilots crashed onto an uninhabited planet while engaged.

They gradually learned to trust each other, and became good friends.

The alien pilot told the human he was pregnant (don’t ask) then died.

The human’s bittersweet joy at this event was interrupted when thousands of baby aliens devoured him.

After thirty years, the spy remained completely undetected. He’d blended into the enemy’s society, becoming a valuable part of the community. He made many good friends. He married. Had children. He made sure everyone who knew him trusted him. Now was the time to act. What was his mission, again?