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Under Blankets, Under Stars

E-BookEPUBePub WasserzeichenE-Book
192 Seiten
Englisch
treditionerschienen am19.04.2021
Over 20 short sci-fi and fantasy stories to warm the soul. From outlandish adventures of humans in space to simple tales of Earthbound love. Includes three Reedsy Writing Contest winners and several other shortlisted works. So, welcome to the cheerier side of the human mind. Where the planets spin and the stars twinkle. Where the spirit soars and dreams blend with reality. Pop on the kettle. Make yourself a pot of tea or a mug of coffee. Snuggle up. Get cosy. And let your imagination free. And always keep an eye on the skies above. Sometimes, wonderful things light up the darkness.

Joshua G. J. Insole is a British writer who lives in the Austrian Alps. His favoured genres are horror and science fiction. Joshua - three-time winner of the Reedsy contest and author of several other shortlisted stories - published his first book, A Chance of Rain, in July 2020.
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EUR17,90
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EUR2,99

Produkt

KlappentextOver 20 short sci-fi and fantasy stories to warm the soul. From outlandish adventures of humans in space to simple tales of Earthbound love. Includes three Reedsy Writing Contest winners and several other shortlisted works. So, welcome to the cheerier side of the human mind. Where the planets spin and the stars twinkle. Where the spirit soars and dreams blend with reality. Pop on the kettle. Make yourself a pot of tea or a mug of coffee. Snuggle up. Get cosy. And let your imagination free. And always keep an eye on the skies above. Sometimes, wonderful things light up the darkness.

Joshua G. J. Insole is a British writer who lives in the Austrian Alps. His favoured genres are horror and science fiction. Joshua - three-time winner of the Reedsy contest and author of several other shortlisted stories - published his first book, A Chance of Rain, in July 2020.
Details
Weitere ISBN/GTIN9783347294790
ProduktartE-Book
EinbandartE-Book
FormatEPUB
Format HinweisePub Wasserzeichen
FormatE101
Verlag
Erscheinungsjahr2021
Erscheinungsdatum19.04.2021
Seiten192 Seiten
SpracheEnglisch
Dateigrösse2940 Kbytes
Artikel-Nr.12570603
Rubriken
Genre9201

Inhalt/Kritik

Leseprobe



A Little Bit Off

We all knew there was something a little bit off about Hugh.

He was a single man who collected comics, for a start. He called them his research . He also had silver-black skin, purple eyes, and no nose. Hugh always wore a pair of oversized pink glasses and a ridiculous fake white moustache. Oh, and the glasses he tried to hide his eyes behind? They were regular glasses - not sunglasses, not the kind with mirror lenses. Plain old glasses. But Hugh didn t seem to be aware of his error.

I m not quite sure exactly where he was from, but it wasn t Earth. I remember the first time I met him. A supervisor who d stumbled their way into middle management introduced us.

Got a new member for your team. Fred took a sip out of his mug of tea. His arm rested on my cubicle door, which gave me a lovely view of his sweaty armpit. I thought it was incredible that he d sweat so much at 9:03 in the morning on an overcast day. He always had a mug in his hand and always wandered back and forth through the office. Most often to and from the kitchen, to either top up or take his now full mug with him on his travels. The more cynical-minded might think Fred only drank tea because it allowed him to waste time. And if others wanted tea? Brilliant. He could stretch out the whole process of boiling the kettle and brewing the tea even longer. Still, he was a nice enough guy and he never pushed us to work hard or criticized anything we did. So, nobody put in a complaint. The office was pretty relaxed with Fred in charge. Name s Hugh.

I nodded. Hm, Hugh, I said, to say something. You didn t need to try to hold a conversation with Fred, he could hold one by himself. Whether you responded or not had no bearing on the direction, topic, or length of the conversation. Fred would natter on about this and that - for anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour. His record was an hour and 43 minutes. That was with Dave, two cubicles down.

I could ve watched a movie in the time it took him to tell me about his car insurance, Dave said. All in good humour, mind you.

Fred nodded and continued. Seems like a decent enough fellow, this Mr Manbeing. Little bit odd. Got a good reputation, though.

I stared at Fred for a second as I came out of my daze. I was unsure if he was pulling my leg. He wasn t known for his witty humour. I don t think he had the intellect for it. Hugh⦠Manbeing? I asked, incredulous.

That s right. Fred nodded. Brenda in HR is clearing up his paperwork with im at the moment, he should be up in- Fred glanced at his watch -oh, I dunno, 15 minutes? I ll send you his CV over to have a quick looksie before he heads up. Got an impressive history.

Does he now? I wondered whether we were going to get a convict in the office. Well, you best send it over, hadn t you? I nodded in the direction of Fred s desk.

On it like a car bonnet. Fred fired finger pistols at me with a laugh. Fred s favourite joke, although to call it a joke might be a bit of a stretch.

Fred surprised me. He managed to send me this suspicious character s resume before he arrived. Must ve been an office record. With haste, I glanced over the document, which was rather unassuming. Hugh seemed qualified and had enough experience to signify he wasn t a complete idiot. Yet, I did raise an eyebrow at his hobbies section. His listed pastimes included consuming the required quantities of Earth food to sustain life and standing upright on leg and frolicking with my fellow Earth bipeds .

When Hugh came into the office, his non-human features took me aback. But it didn t deter Fred. Ah, here he is! Hey there, Hugh, how re you settlin in? He pumped the shiny ink-black hand that had six elongated fingers. Need a cuppa?

Hugh smiled but looked puzzled. A cupper? He rolled the word around his mouth as if to get the full flavour and texture of it.

Right you are, I ll get right on it! said Fred, who marched to the kitchen - not before he ushered the alien in my direction. This is your team leader. I know you ll get along like a house on fire! And then he left us to it.

We made our introductions as Fred disappeared in search of a large enough teapot. I reassured him that there was no fire to worry about. I noted how Hugh had no fingernails, and his hands had a slight suction to them. Like a lizard. Hugh Manbeing. Hugh shifted as if he feared someone might cotton on to the fact that he wasn t from around these parts.

Nice to meet you, Hugh, I said. I d already taken a liking to the extra-terrestrial. His hopelessness and helplessness were endearing.

Let me show you the ropes.

* * *

Despite being from another planet, Mr Manbeing proved to be competent in his job. Although, he was rather clumsy when it came to the social aspects.

Hugh did his work on time and to an excellent standard, there can be no doubt about that. I ve worked with human beings who were half as useful as that creature from another world.

Ask anyone and they ll tell you that your work life is so much more than the work you do. It s also about who you work with, and how you interact with them. We in the office are a close-knit bunch, and an oddball like Hugh thrown into the mix was a bit of a shock.

When the rest of us have lunch in the rec room, Hugh stands off to one corner. I ve never seen him eat, although he did develop - in part thanks to Fred - a rather fond attachment to what he called a cupper . He scribbles in his notebook and glances up at us now and then. Hugh observes us with an almost Attenboroughesque curiosity. When we ask him what he s doing, he usually responds with, Nothing. Research. Notes. I m writing an Earth novel about fellow mammals. They fall in love, much dopamine and other neurotransmitters are released. They die at the end. A real tour de force. Please, resume inserting sustenance into your faces, fellow carbon-based lifeforms. I have photosynthesised more than my fill on this fine planetary rotation.

And it s not restricted to our lunch breaks. It s how he starts and ends the day.

Work begins at nine in the morning. People arrive five to ten minutes earlier, but Hugh arrives way before then. As the team leader, I often have to be in at around eight. Each time I get there, I find Hugh stood outside the door, superhero comic in hand. He flicks his way through, with a mutter and a scratch of his chin. On occasion, I stop and listen. The general theme is the vexing physiological properties of these oxygen-breathing bipeds.

I say hello and ask him how his weekend was, how long he s been stood there, and if he s enjoying his comic. Hugh always panics, as if I ve caught him off-guard. Like a man on the toilet who s forgotten to lock the door. The end? he asks, one non-eyebrow raised. No, no, that s not for another hundred years, I m sure of it. And, naturally, I ve been here since the cessation of operations on- he then pulls out his notebook and scrutinises it with his bug eyes -Fryday He says the word with care. As if it were a bomb in his mouth and mispronouncing it would trigger detonation. And this? He glances at the comic book with feigned surprise, be it X-Men or Superman or Spíder-Man or whatever. I-I found this! Yes, found it! This isn t mine! One of your, er, I mean, one of our fleet s commanders must have left it around by accident. I am now returning this most top-secret documentation, which I most certainly have not perused, to you, so that you may return it to the correct facility. He then pauses, before adding: Wherever that may be. He hands me the comic, folds his arms behind his back, and smiles as he waits for me to unlock the office door.

We ve been through this dance on several occasions. I m certain he thinks humans have no memory retention, like goldfish.

Once we re done with the day and quittin time is upon us, Hugh claps his shiny six-fingered hands together. He cries in jubilation: Another axial rotation well done! Tremendous work, my fellow Earthlings. I ve never seen so many different combinations of these 26 letters. Or such recklessly sedentary behaviour! He then pats the chairs and commends them on their hard work throughout the day, too. As far as I m aware, he congratulates everything in the office, be it animate or inanimate, for the day s events. I ve even seen him deliver a highly-motivating pep talk to the watercooler.

I ve never seen him go home, either. He leaves the building, sure, but he hangs around outside and lingers in the car park. Hugh waves at us as we all drive away. Strange chap. Where does he think we go each night? I have no doubt there are some speculations on the subject in that...

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