Some Form of Contact

Jody climbed the rough ladder to the roof of the house, Mick behind her making the metal move through her heavy male stairs. His face was close to his ass, which embarrassed and pleased him. He was a young man who burned grass all over the apartment. He imagined himself kissing her in the hot sun. He turned, breathing, to help her over the cup, embarrassed, convinced that the climb was a game ahead.

"It's cool." Mick stared at him from the roof. He then moved away from her and sat down next to the air conditioner house. He pulled out his phone.

Lungile looked at the romantic sunset to see if anything was missing. "What are you doing?"

"This is an ideal place to view attack photos without interruption."

Lungile lay down next to him and tried to look interested. He was trying to forget the current events. There have been photos taken on cell phone cameras as well as official photos. Even some NASA TV stuff. Mick has become very fond of mobile pictures. "That's right," he paused, pointing to a friend of the bored photographer, looking down at his phone as the spacecraft slowly filled the sky above them. A child riding in a cart nearby was eating a fat fist.

All of this shocked her. "You see they are on top of major industrial centers, right? Like Independence Day. You are preparing to end it." Fear gripped him. He raises his hand to his den wearing denim.

Mick ignored him. "Or people's centers. Meet us. Ooh, Look at New Delhi. Party!"

Everyone was doing this, thought Jodi. They stared at the pictures, puzzled by questions. There was no spacecraft over Dayton, Ohio, however, which made Jody feel comfortable and left out. "What if we all die?"

Mick shrugged and his warm bicep rubbed his arm. "How do you feel right now? It's like when the principal walks into the room, doesn't it? Everyone thinks it's bad news first. We're hooked up that way. But nine times out of ten, he's there to tell his little man. My brother has lice."

Surprisingly, however, Mick's younger brother was a cruel child. Jody pulled her shoulder under Mick and leaned her cheek soft cotton over her pack, the sweetness coming into her with her warmth. She looked down at him, showing shock and joy drowning in her features.

On his phone, the video showed the hatch opening. The camera shook, people ran.

Mick stiffened. "And right there? He's the principal who clears the throat."

Jai swam slowly, rolling all the eir tents, filling the tunnel area as Mai followed and, insanely, failed to collide with any of them. Of all the crew at Exploratory Ship Seven, Mai had a very pleasant aroma and a wide variety of colors. Jai had convinced Mai to take the night watch with her in the hope of finding out how soft the eir skin was, but what Mai wanted to do was stare at people's watches. "Look at how they gather under the ships. It's just like the fun where the mind-controlled dynamic creatures attack."

"Maybe they want to look at us." Jai slides one of the eir tents next to Mai, and hears Mai's sucking tips, playfully, as a friend, but maybe more? The nubs were strong, strong as control buttons. Jai couldn't help but smile.

Mai pitched Jai's tents on the side. "You didn't read the abbreviations, did you? These people are violent and dangerous! Even their births are violent!"

"Reproduction. That's a good title." Jai tightens the skin of the eir to deepen the color of the eir in the attractive darkness. O thought of smooth, attractive thoughts.

Let them look at them. "We have nothing to do with these creatures and we try to communicate without arousing their horrible rage. Aren't you scared?"

"Very much." Fear heightened a great longing for communication. Jai shakes the needy.

Mai rolled over the tips of the eir tentacle and turned the mocking shade of purple. "If only people were like you. Instead of chasing wars, we could open our air vents and lighten our skins and pave our way to greater peace."

Jai hit his head in the hole above Mai's tents. "Can we try?"

Mai is stunned, the colors are mixed and deep, irritated, the smell of frustration. Jai's embarrassment came out of their skin. The funny pink flow on Mai's soft skin turned into a sensitive red. Oh, dear Jai. "We may."

As they rubbed each other's soft openings, the warm water in the hallway was filled with joy, the emotional gestures of all the staff, the cries of space opening.

On the roof of a house in Dayton, the phone fell into place under two pairs of legs wearing denim. On-screen, the human cephalopod and cephalopod move forward, both skeptical, both pressing on all the sensory organs, like lovers alone for the first time.