From Quiet Pine Trees...
Journalists from the future would appear as history was made. He got nervous as a crowd of them filmed his blind date from outside the cafe.
Humans were installed as lighthouses throughout the galaxy, their flaring emotions serving to warn ships away from pockets of linear time.
To space pirates, Peter Pan was a horror story, mirroring the fear that their enemies would abduct and enlist the sons they left behind.
"These readings can't be real," she scoffed. "Alien ships this large and numerous would be visible." She looked to the sky. And the stars.
"Sorry, but your parts are worth a mint." She drew her gun on the android. "Every snowflake is special, until you need to make a snowball."
He slipped her the inkwell. "This one is full of forbidden, outlawed words," he whispered. "Make sure you clean your pen when you're done."
They said the mushrooms growing on sunless asteroids could cure our addiction to sleep. Each bite conveyed a millennium of silent darkness.
Seaside homes are no more tragic than others, but often have more ghosts. They come with the tide, mistaking houses for their sunken ships.
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