A short story

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Photo by Ivan Aleksic on Unsplash

“Hungry?”

He cocked an eyebrow at me. Stupid Vulcan. He hasn’t got more than that one stupid expression. At least not that I’ve seen in these seven months.

“I found another bug under the mattress.”

He didn’t even glance at me, just sat there, meditating or whatever it is Vulcans do for hour upon hour, day in, day out.

“Fine, I’ll eat it.”

When they threw us both into this cell, I figured his super strength and logic would get us out in no time.

No such luck.

Green blooded bastard.

“Hey!”

He glanced over.

“Why don’t you work on a plan to get us out of here instead of just sitting there another day like a big, stupid pointy eared rock.”

He reached over, pinched my neck.

Sometimes, it’s the only way I can get to sleep.

Writer. Actor. Musician. Nerd. Thinks too much about Star Trek, Doctor Who, ukuleles, coffee, and donuts. Not necessarily in that order. neilshurley.com

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