Rick stirred, opening his eyes to see a metal gate with a rusted chain and lock keeping it closed. A rotten smell hit his nose. “Agh! God…Terry!”
“Wakey-wakey, asshole.” Terry’s mug peered down at him. “Remind you of that time in Tijuana?”
“I told you that donkey show looked shady.” A soft purr caused him to sit up and glance around the cell. A creature that looked like the tiger-woman they’d spied on slept curled in the corner.
Terry followed Rick’s gaze. “Heh. Our own naked alien. These guys rock!”
Rick glared at him. “You ever stop to think we might be this…whatever’s dinner?”
“I don’t eat junk-food,” floated a soft growl. “Especially that provided by the Leono sedimento.” Tiger-woman stretched, arching her back, then started licking her fur.
The “cat-bath” mesmerized Rick. He turned his head…his eyes taking in Terry’s pants pointing. “Dude!”
“I can’t help it, dick.”
Curious green-gold eyes watched. “You two are strange. Not like the others we’ve found.”
Rick kept his gaze averted. “There are others?”
“Yes, though I’m afraid our execution will keep you from meeting them.”
“E-execution?” Rick glared up at Terry, who leered at the alien. “Sometimes I really hate you.”
Another chapter in the ongoing saga of Rolling Stoners, for Sunday Photo Fiction. The host of Sunday Photo Fiction is creating a new blog for a new challenge: Haibun. He’s after photos and artwork, so if you are interested head over to the Sunday Photo Fiction page, leave a comment and he’ll contact you.
Hope you enjoyed this week’s installment of Rolling Stoners. Now I have to figure out how to write myself out of the execution corner 😉
By the way, some of the language is Esperanto.
Happy Reading and Writing!