You remember that announcer who does the Sunday, Sunday, Sunday thing? I wanna do that for Wednesdays but I just don’t think that has the right ring to it. Anyway, yep, it’s time for the weekly vote over at Indies Unlimited.
I have a confession, I really liked the prompt this week and had some great ideas but I couldn’t quite pull it together. Of course I wrote an entry, of course I posted it, and of course I have it here for you to peruse. But in the end I think it falls a little flat.
But this goes back to why I do this. I am fulfilling my commitments with my own writing and ideas. This is a chance to experiment and explore different thoughts and concepts. Not all of them will work as I expect them to. The only real failures in this is when I stop trying.
I urge you to read the other entries this week and find the ones that speak to you. I will be voting for me but that’s because I have done what I set out to do this week. That is my win.
An Important Job
Early detection of a hostile missile launch is an important job. I always thought so, anyway.
This is where I worked. My job was to see the end of the world coming an instant before it does. Just an instant might give us the opportunity to prevent it.
That was before. I still come here every day, though I don’t know why. That wasn’t how the world ended…
The dishes were supposed to alert us to anything from the air, like when the ships came. The arrogance! Our own stupidity! The audacity to think that our primitive technology would be enough. They didn’t even try to hide themselves, we just couldn’t see them. At least not till they were here. No warning, just here.
The plot of alien invasion B movies weren’t this bad. This was real life. At first the major cities, their embassies spread to smaller satellite cities and towns from there. Free exchange of cultural and technological information grew.
I know what you’re thinking, what about the dissenters. The resistance never let the rest of us forget their feelings. But like our early warning systems, we never saw the threat till it was too late.
Do you remember that old story, what was it, War of the Worlds? Ya, that’s it. We didn’t give Orson Wells enough credit I think. The common cold, right. An incurable virus, we lived with it every day of our lives.
*hack* *cough* Sorry about that, I can edit it out later.
They called it space measles. I know, right… Cute name to lighten up what happened.