by Mike Berger
Screeching to a halt, I was confronted
by this hideous, vile thing. It reeked--
putrid like something dead.
It looked like a giant oyster with one
giant bloodshot eye. It had scaly flaps
on each side.
It ambulated by osmosis, oozing its way
by flapping its flaps. I was frozen in my
tracks as it approached.
It uttered a low moaning sound. Then it
spoke in my language. "Help," it cried.
I assumed it was struggling to breathe
in the Earth's atmosphere.
Moved by its pathetic plea for help I
asked, "Are you having trouble breathing?"
"No," the thing replied. "The air is fine.
I've just arrived; point me at the nearest
Starbucks, I haven't had my morning
© 2009 Mike Berger
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