Observations in a Layby and a Missing Dick by Cheryl Markosky

When the alien lands in the layby [PLACE TO STOP TEMPORARILY AND DRINK AMBER LIQUID FROM THERMOS FLASK] on the A303 at Barton Stacey near the Travelodge, it climbs down the steps from its spaceship into gloomy light.

It watches Adult Female exit the Skoda [LOWER ENGINE SPEEDS MEAN QUIETER OPERATION AND SMOOTH RIDE], shouting at Adult Male at the wheel. “Once, just once, would it kill you to ask for help.” [MAKE IT EASIER FOR (SOMEONE) TO DO SOMETHING BY OFFERING ONE’S SERVICES]

Adult Female jerks on the restraint of dog [DOMESTICATED DESCENDANT OF THE WOLF KEPT FOR COMPANIONSHIP], scratchy tongue pink as planet G5504b in the constellation Virgo, stinking of fish and failure.

When the alien lands in the layby on the A303 Adult Female rolls her eyes [NONVERBAL GESTURE THAT CONVEYS RANGE OF EMOTIONS] while Adult Male slumps. She keeps shouting. “You think if you ask for help your dick will fall off.”

Alien scans Dick Van Dyke, Dick Cheney, Moby Dick, Dick Tracy, Spotted Dick and Dick’s Sporting Goods, but it isn’t clear which is relevant. And why it would drop unintentionally to the ground.

When the alien lands in the layby on the A303 Adult Male appears to be acting normal [USUAL OR TYPICAL STATE], but Alien can’t compute what’s standard in this world.

Adult Male gets out of the Skoda [KNOWN FOR STRONG RELIABILITY] and strides over the grass verge [EDGE, RIM, BRINK]. Alien’s relieved nothing’s dropped off.

“Get back in the car, Marge. I hate it when you get like this.” [REFERRING TO CERTAIN SITUATION].

The alien wonders if it’s normal to stay in a car.  It explores things you can do outside a car [GO FOR DRINK, WALK IN FIELD OF POPPIES WITH LOVED ONE].

“Why, so a lorry can slam into us and we die on this fucking road? Because you’re too stubborn [DOGGED DETERMINATION NOT TO CHANGE ONE’S ATTITUDE IN SPITE OF GOOD ARGUMENTS] to ask anyone to lend a hand.” 

Alien considers its hand, polycarbonate green flesh, as normal as Adult Male’s pink-as-planet G5504b’s hand. He unscrews the appendage and offers it to Adult Male. 

Adult Male snatches Alien’s obliging [ACCOMMODATING, CARING] green hand and chucks it into the grass. Dog punctures it like it’s a novelty chew toy.

“Who the hell do you think you are sticking your nose in?” Adult Male thunders.

Alien touches its nose [UNCERTAIN, FEELING ANXIOUS] with its remaining hand.

“Yeah, mind your own business,” says Adult Female, yanking dog, drooling over Alien’s severed limb, into the Skoda.

When the alien climbs back up the steps into its spaceship in the layby on the A303, Adult Male gets behind the wheel, pours tea from the flask and hands it to Adult Female. She sips amber liquid, breaks a Kit-Kat in two, hands half to Adult Male, and switches on the news [INFORMATION UPDATE], with reports of a strained society starting to ride out the overcast light on the horizon [SCOPE, SPHERE, POSSIBILITY].

Canadian-born Cheryl Markosky splits her time between England and the Caribbean. Her work can be found in New Flash Fiction Review, Maudlin House, The Molotov Cocktail, Janus Literary, The Cabinet of Heed, The Drabble, WalkListenCreate (where she was writer-in-residence); National Flash Fiction Day and Flash Fiction Festival anthologies. @cherylmarkosky www.cherylmarkosky.com www.twitter.com/cherylmarkosky