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 |   A terminal for all blogs coming in or going out. A view into my life. |
| Starships are smooth but need space ... a lot of it. On a planet they are useless and usually orbit a moon ... or hover far enough away from the gravity well to not be entangled by it. A plane or train or ... well most anything ... Surface transportation is nice if it gets you there quickly, smoothly and on time. A wagon pulled over rutted paths is none of that. "Why are we taking a wagon?" "Problem with that?" "Nothing a butt massage and a couple of pills can't cure." The Gqarian handed me a stick. "Now chew on it." The view was great. I must admit that. And traveling slower than a Snail-squirt would be relaxing if I weren't so sore. The plains were wide and flat. But the path wound around every rock. In fact it seemed to follow them. "Are the rocks signposts?" "Yep." I got the unspoken message. In the quiet I started to hear odd music. It came from both sides. An ebb and flow like a call and response. "They approve of you." The wizened woman handed me another stick and a cup filled with liquid. "Drink this." It wasn't water. I could almost make out voices. It was melodic with awesome harmonies. I'm trained in languages but not this one. Then it stopped as a shadow passed over us and landed on a rock. "Message for you," the Gqarian explained after listening. "We're expected by lightfall and will have to go faster." The path seemed to smooth out as we gained speed. Not too much speed. But I wasn't bouncing. The music returned becoming a symphony. When we arrived the Gqarian explained. "The Grass People are alive and aware. They are wary and only allow intruders to follow the paths. They make them as rutted or smooth as they choose. They must really like you." "Why?" The Gqarian gave me an odd look and said nothing. The meeting was cordial but few words were spoken. It was almost as if the flavors and fragrances were exuding a message ... one I couldn't quite grasp. With only a gesture I was shown to my (standard galactic) room and left to myself. Obviously this was not a planet accustomed to conversation. For:
Prompt: Write about a conversation you had with a person on a plane or on a train. 2.494 |
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