Saturday, November 22, 2014

Mothership

I'm at Chick-fil-a in Newnan, Georgia, and I think I've never seen so much makeup in all my life. The girls look like pretty, benevolent aliens, hapless and strange. If I lived here as a girl, or even now, I suppose I  would want to transform into an alien race, too.

I'd huddle up with the other alien-faced girls in someone's basement, in our pajamas, to share secrets. We'd whisper about all the people who are just so wrong about us. Because really we are making plans to call in our mothership.

The time is not quite right yet, one alien-face would say, but it will be very soon. Yes, we all agree, something imperceptible is changing. Soon it will come and take over city hall and the middle school. Soon it will change everything, and everyone will know the truth about us. Then it will be everyone else trying to change their face, not us. Not us ever again.

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