Strange New World
·118 words·1 min
Flash Fiction Deadlines For Writers
Hearing the cabin door open, Commander Harris glanced over her shoulder to see the dim form of Jenkins. Before crash landing, the scans of the planet had shown it to be hospitable, but she knew that did not equal friendly.
“I should be able to get the communication beacon online. What’s it like out there?”
Looking back over her shoulder she saw Jenkins standing in the door. He was beckoning her to follow. Rolling her eyes, she put the ship into sleep mode.
Outside there was a sharp citrus odor, almost like lemons. Standing all around the craft were exact duplicates of Jenkins. On the ground was the original, his body covered in strange tubers, and quite dead.