Our church worships at the altar of the Unholy Trinity. Its gospels are delivered as a trio of dark drabbles, linked so that Three become One. All hail the power of the Three.
Torturous longing sizzled through my veins as I lusted over the goods in the outer space warehouse. My skin drooled blue goo. My pulse drummed a tattoo as the security guard suspiciously surveyed me from crablike claws to hirsute hide and finally to my distant bobbing heads. The count down to the heist lessened; my colour throbbed psychedelic to tie and dye.
“Grab and scuttle!” collided through my brain as I pelted for the flitter. My arachnid partner threw a bafflingly effective web over the exit, but I still double-crossed it. With an illegal cargo of human parts, I escaped.
The human organs would sell well on the black market. With my degree in piracy I was an excellent negotiator.
Every human on Earth wanted a supply of self-rejuvenating skin. Eyeballs which changed colour were in fashion. A liquor loving liver was coveted. Renewable kidneys could buy a tricked out space ship.
Multiplying blood was valued highly. Even second rate organs had a high market value. Oddities like a seven fingered hand, four legged torso or enjoined heads were treasured by collectors.
My eyes ran lovingly over the human parts.
Drooling, I resisted eating them as I accelerated the flitter.
The arachnid’s insults of “Traitor! Double-crossing scumbag!” echoed after I abandoned him following the heist of illegal body parts. I chuckled until realising that fearing my duplicity, my ex-partner had installed an alarm alerting all space police to my theft. It was actually the arachnid who was the backstabbing betrayer. There was no longer loyalty amongst pirates.
I spat a tsunami of insults which would have made a space sailor crimson.
Blue strobe lights flashed closer towards me.
Ideas bubbled about escaping from the space police.
Gloating over my ingenuity, I dotted some human remains into outer space.
Lady Godiva and I, are both Coventry females from England. After emigrating to Canada and giving birth to six children, I found myself in Texas. Now as a retired teacher, I doodle in my mind and being inspired by my dogs, a chance meeting, provocative words or evocative landscape, I start writing. My characters misbehave, the protagonist disappears, my dark drabble becomes a 2000 word romance comedy. Ideas and scenes fight to be written words. Loving the creativity and scope that writing gives me. It frees my mind to sing to a new dimension!