Unholy Trinity: Illegal Cargo by Margarida Brei
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!
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Originally from New Orleans, Shalini grew up with a love for the hauntingly beautiful stories, ideas and folklore that were enmeshed with the city. She also developed a deep love for words and a well-told story. Anytime those two can marry, she’s there for it. She loves stories that lure, that haunt, that pull at heartstrings or that wrap one up in fear, anxious to know what’s going to happen next.