A flash lit up Katie’s bedroom, bouncing off the porcelain dolls, the softball trophies, and the posters of Joan Jett, Kiss, and a dozen smaller photos of male teens with guitars. The light lasted long enough for her to see her knees wobble. Then it went out,
Waslken settled his craft on the dirt next to the farmhouse, extinguished the rockets under the pod, and opened the nose. An octopus, the spaceship wrapped around him like a Coke bottle. He contracted his body and pushed out in a whoosh. He plopped onto the ground to rest.
Katie watched the cone open,
In her surprise, Katie closed her eyes tight, dropped the flashlight, and crumpled to her knees. After a moment of silence, she peeked and found the heartthrob she idolized standing under the rocket. Katie forgot her fears. She screamed again in joy and ran towards the teen carrying the flaming guitar.
© 2019, Michael Shawn Sommermeyer. All rights reserved.
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