They’re haggard, dirty, ragged. But they’re alive.
This place is made of scraps, whatever they could salvage.
But they’re alive.
They lay us on the floor.
Wash ash and crusted blood from my skin. Drip water into my mouth till my tongue is loosened and my throat is clear.
The little girl comes, touches my face again.
“You’re here to save us from the aliens, right?” she whispers.
“They’re humans.” I whisper back.
“They have green eyes.”
“It’s night vision.”
“But you’re going to stop them?”
And what do I say? How can I tell her?
We’re never gonna win.
--- You should have seen my Mom’s face when she came home from the Christmas party. The kitchen counter was completely cleared off, every...
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