Email | A flash fiction story
38 of 💯
A blue dot glowed under the skin of their wrists as they shook hands, completing the transaction. They were on the boarding bay, a cage with thick metal bars resting on top of a loading cart, a couple of feet from them. Inside the cage, a large rhinowolf slept comfortably.
“Thank you,” Coles said. “I’ve already sent you all the paperwork. You’ve made a great purchase.”
“No, no. Thank you, Mr. Coles,” the woman said. “I have to say, this was very expensive, but I didn’t think I could ever leave this horrible planet, so I’m extremely happy. Any price is worth it.”
Coles showed his teeth — a pathetic attempt at smiling — and she turned to board.
“Wait,” he called. “The cage?”
She stopped, puzzled. “What about it?”
He gasped and covered his mouth. “You didn’t read the instructions I sent you!”
She squinted. “Instructions?”
“Alright,” he said, trying to contain his agitation. “It’s going to be fine, I just need you to pay close attention.”
“Okay?”
“You can’t just leave this planet. It’s Anchora, for god’s sake. No. You’re sending your animal here,” he pointed to the monster in the cage, “to my friend at the space station, who is a veterinarian and a researcher. Animals can’t travel alone, so you’re allowed to accompany it. Once you get there, my friend will ‘lose’ it for you and you’ll report your missing animal — be sure to make a scene. You’ll be given a month to retrieve it before they make you come back. In that time, get yourself a job: a mechanic, a barista — I don’t care. If you have a job, you’ll be allowed to stay.”
The woman stared, processing all the information. The rhinowolf barked and they both jumped.
“It’s going to be fine,” Coles said, his hand on his chest, “just tell them you’re offering your pet for research and you’re coming back in a couple of days. Just don't touch the bars unless you want to lose an arm.”
The woman nodded nervously, looking at the monster in the cage.
“And for the love of god, check your email once in a while.”
“Email?” The woman slapped her forehead. “No wonder I didn't get your instructions! What century do you live in?”
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