Scrape. Flip.
Scrape. Flip.
Scrape. Flip.
Scrape. Flip.
Scrub. Scrub.
Scrub. Scrub.
Slice. Slice.
Mix. Mix.
Fry. Fry.
Scrape. Flip.
Scrape. Flip.
Scrape. Flip.
Chop. Chop.
Chop. Chop.
Scrub. Scrub.
Scrub. Scrub.
Sweep.
Sweep.
Sweep.
"Nice work today Steve. The customers appreciated it, we had folks raving about the food all day."
Noises come in from the manager of this place.
My throat seizes as I attempt to reply. I haven't spoken in hours, and the heat of the kitchen has clogged me up like the greasy arteries of someone eating the large order of fried chicken.
"Thanks. I'm glad, you know. Everyone's gotta eat, 's good to do my part."
My voice comes out like a smoker, and it's no wonder. I've been sucking down lungfuls of hot smoky air every day for years. I wonder if I keep at it if the carbon in there will make a diamond someday.
"Well, that's it for for the weekend rush. You have a lovely few days off, Lord knows you've been working hard enough."
"Thanks boss, see you on wednesday."
I step outside into the night, the cool air a balm against my sweaty skin, a refrigerant for my soul as well as my flesh.
A thousand thousand winking eyes stare at me from above but I don't care that I'm in the limelight. Neither the moon or the stars are close enough for me to hear their criticism. Whether they think positively of me or stare down with hate, I will never know.
It's seven miles back to my house, accompanied only by the gentle crunch of my footsteps. Meteors streak by in the heavens, a flash in the pan. There seems to be an awful lot of them tonight, however. They keep coming like the orders fly over the counter at work. One, another, two more, I see hundreds over the course of an hour. It makes for a lovely backdrop to my journey.
One streaks across the sky more brightly than the others. A flash and a bang resound up the road from me. My jaw hangs slack for a moment as I realize that less than a quarter mile from me, a space rock has fallen, and I know where it is.
A primal urge surges up from within. The space rock, it must be mine. I need it.
I break into a jog. My flesh trembles with exertion. Each foot hits the ground and I build a mantra as I hit a sprint.
Space.
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Rock.
Space.
Rock.
Space.
Rock.
I haven't run like this in a while. My vision spins a little as my blood swirls like tomatoes in the blender.
I should really make some more pasta sauce when I get home. Nothing like a vigorous tomato flavor to accent an evening in, after all, and it's the weekend.
Before I know it, I've arrived. There's a small crater. In the crater is some kind of lizard. It has long legs and long arms, a linguine thin set of limbs really, and its skin is burnt black and smoking with heat. Its ugly, oblong head has a mouth full of little pointy teeth and it stands slightly taller than my waist. It struggles to stand and wobbles like a drunk, attempting to face me. It hisses angrily, obviously directed at me, but its eyes are also burnt and I can see it's in rather poor shape.
I pause for a moment, and simply stare at it, thinking. There's no space rock in the crater. Did a strange lizard really fall from the sky?
I'm brought out of my thoughts as it leaps forward, lunging its head forward to snap at me. In a long practiced but somewhat unfamiliar motion, I snatch it by the neck and head as it lunges and swing in a circular motion overhead, using both hands due to the weight. My arms burn in agony as I spin the creature in circles overhead, maintaining a vigorous spin. This motion is the same I used to use to kill chickens on the farm, using their own weight to remove their head as I twisted their spine until it came loose. This lizard is no chicken, and the heavy weight of the creature forces me to drop it, but I've definitely broken it's spine. I'm panting in exhaustion, and the creature is gurgling as it struggles to breathe, head facing the wrong way. Despite the height of the thing it was probably only 40 lbs. If it had been any heavier, and if I hadn't spent so much time killing lunging roosters when I was younger...
I shudder. This could have been the end of me.
Then it dawns on me.
There's no space rock.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
I wanted a space rock!
Stupid lizard....
Wait, lizards are edible, right?
This thing looks pretty stringy but maybe with a meat tenderizer and a marinade...
Maybe I at least will get some fresh protein with dinner.
Reaching into my jacket, I unzip a pocket within and double check to make sure I have my favorite santoku. Unclasping the sheath, I leave one hand on the handle as I take a closer look at the lizard.
A couple of rough taps with my boot to make sure it isn't faking its wounds and I release the handle of my knife. It's still alive and obviously at least partially paralyzed.
That's good, if I can get it home before it dies the meat should taste better. I don't exactly have a nice counter to butcher here, after all, and I'd hate for the creature to start to spoil.
Grasping its neck with both hands, I swing it over my shoulder and ignore the crackling of its broken spine as it bounces with every step. It's dying gasps in my ear fade just a single block before I reach my apartment.
Space lizard... What kind of dish should I make? There's so many possibilities.