Convenire Aliquem

     Closing his comic book, Gabriel Seagrass sighed, “we have to wait until the next one comes out.” He stood up from the chair, leaned over the bed and gave Clara Darin a peck on the forehead. “Night Tampon Lady.” If he’d paid attention, he would have caught the slight movement of her brow and the wild look that filled her eyes. He might even have recognized that as shear disgust at the nickname. As it stood, the teenager saw none of that. He rushed out of her little piece of the world and disappeared behind the flowery curtain.
     “Easy, Gabs,” a young woman ordered. “You almost knocked me down.”
     “Sorry,” Gabriel called.
     “What’s the rush?” she asked.

Ergo Fornicationis

     After putting the Tesla-C2 Dune Rider in park, Tech Sergeant Rydel climbed out of the vehicle and walked to the back where he dropped the tailgate. He removed his service revolver from its holster and pointed it at Major Derrick Peters, saying, “sir, please get out of the vehicle.”

     “Sergeant, you don’t have to do this,” Major Peters said.

     “Get out of the vehicle, sir.”

     The major scootched to the edge of the Tesla-C2, dropped his legs off the tailgate, and stumbled down. He said, “if you do this, there’s no going back.”

     “You got that wrong, sir. Soon as I get you set up, I’m going back,” Rydel replied.

     “Why do you think we’re out here?” Peters asked.

     “Orders, sir,” Rydel answered.