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As one of Earth’s top surfers, you are invited to represent us in the galaxy’s 37th-Millennial Celestial Surf Race. The organizers tell us that the race launches from a sea exactly like the Pacific Ocean (if it were liquid mercury). You’ll soar over mountains just like Mauna Kea (if it were lifeless and dusted in sulfuric snow). The rogue moons, comets, and asteroids racers will harness to are apparently spectacular. This is a tremendous honor—the organizers say no humans have ever made the journey before… Or maybe they said none have survived the journey? Either way, we’re all very excited for you. Go Team Earth! Do us proud!
Sincerely,
Earth Delegate,
Interstellar Millennial Games Committee
I took Sarah on a perfect Seattle tourism day: Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, the art museum, sunset at the Space Needle. “I wish Van Gogh had painted reality,” Sarah mused. Two creepy little voices from near her ankles said “Granted,” and the sky … hardened into bold swoops of animate color. A yellow swirl struck the Needle’s spire and the whole tower rocked. We ran. “Stupid oddity shop socks!” Sarah yelled. “The lady said they were smart!” Not smart like smart wool; smart like malicious elves. At the bottom of the long stairway, we spilled into a city gorgeously menaced—strafed by colorful but dangerous air.
When you visit, we’ll go to the Troll—it’s safe under the bridge.
~Tiffany