SNWHAL: Inquiry Mordaunt

SNWHAL: Small Nose, Wearing Hat, Alien Lady

Ok, her nose isn't that small, and she's not wearing a hat.   But, um...I love her.  I do.  Just pictures are boring, so I'll put a story in.

"Umm....hello? I'm Inquiry, Inquiry Mordaunt."

 "I have come here to study your  stories and libraries.  We don't have imagination on my world - how terrible to be born with a sense of whimsy!  But we do have good, affordable, reliable inter-galactic space travel.  Well, I suppose societies win some and lose some."

"I've traveled to sim libraries near and far."

 The petite creature shifts uncomfortably in her brocade dress, as if surprised that anyone would notice her.

The whole room has a slight lavender scent - is it from her, the candles, or the old carpets?  There's also a slight electric crackle, but it could be from anywhere in the old library room, tucked away on the third floor.  A dusty study kiosk trails old wires, an old lamp, and dusty books that were never reclaimed by the stacks.   The chair is missing.  However, Inquiry sends glances towards it, clearly hoping to settle in and read as soon as possible.  Who knows if she would even use a chair?

"And...umm..."

 "That's it, really."   She ends the introduction, as if there really is no other explanation needed for why there is a day-glo pink ball gown wearing alien hovering around the upper floors of an ancient library.   And, worse of all, there isn't. 

"Oh.  Well.  I would rather not talk about home."

"How about a story?"  She shifts her shoulders, looking a little less like a trapped gazelle.  The floors creak lightly, as the wooden floors are old, dry, and improperly maintained.  "I love stories."

"Let me think of a good one..."

 "Oh, I know, I've seen a lot of groups telling ghost stories in the parks.  I mean, I've seen it from the windows of the libraries.  Ghost stories in parks, on sidewalks, at ice cream shops.   Which I don't understand, since you have so many actual ghosts, and mostly they play video games and eat ice cream.  Is eating ice cream scary?"

"Is it...?"

 "Oh, oops, I got distracted."   A small dog starts to bark in the distance, setting off a chain of yips, woofs, howls and disgruntled owners shouting ineffective threats. Inquiry looks off towards the horizon, her wispy brows furrowed in a dance of thoughts.

 

"...MONSTER!"

"Yes!"   She waves her bright hands through the air.  "Yes, there was an old monster, who lived under the bridge of a major highway.   He nestled into the trestles, hidden by pidgeons and spray paint and rust.  When the cars drove over they could hear his metal heart, beating under their tires."


"One night, a beautiful old woman's car broke down on the bridge.  She had hair like silver, and when she smiled it shone back the light of the thousands of sunny days she had played, and worked, and dozed in."


"The monster oozed out of the bridge, through cracks and over the railing and leaking up and over the hood of the car.  One hand, two hand, three hand, four...feet and horns, bristles and thorns.  He grinned a thousand teeth at the beautiful woman.   She could see the tow truck on the other side of the hill, still 3 miles away."

"Will you...?" he breathed, a long breath, with a hundred little sighs and hidden winds inside of it.


"Yes."


"And when the tow truck came, there was only a bridal bouquet on the seat of the car, with no sign of the beautiful old woman."

"How did I do?"