New Short Story: “Third World Gleaner”

Hey guys!

 

Happy Tuesday and hurray for April, am I right? I just wanted to let you know I typed up a new short story. Check out the excerpt below:

 

I first saw the woman from Earth on Harvest Day, or as we non-Imperial citizens like to call it, “Gleaning Day.” She was tall and square, but perfectly toned, and clearly military. You could tell from her uniform but it was even more obvious in her face and body language. I thought she must have been bred for the position like a thoroughbred racehorse. And it was clear why her government had chosen her as envoy to the Emirates—her keen eyes pierced everything they set their sights on, filtered by the weight of those indomitable, military-trained eyebrows. Even from my distance I could see that those eyebrows were working overtime to cast away or reinterpret the cacophony of alien information assaulting her from every side. This one might not have a panic attack.

She stood beside the Shah and his chieftains on the hovering platform, receiving the refreshments that were thrust upon her with a stern courtesy. Even at this distance I could see her uniform—once crisply pressed—wilting under the blistering sun, but she stood tall and dignified as the Shah explained to her the process of harvest transfer.

The enormous Collector had descended to its target altitude, five hundred meters above the stubble fields with their odd contours of luminescent magenta, and cast a shadow the size of a football field. Dozens of Harvesters had lined up in half a dozen parallel queues and began sliding forward across the fumes of boiling air churned up by their ventilators. To the untrained eye it looked like a procession of tanks marching off to war, and I wondered briefly if the Earth woman would understand it. But when each Harvester slid under the belly of the monster Collector, the transfer of Perillian Grain was unmistakable. The harvest load was propelled upward with a shocking amount of force and speed almost invisible to the naked eye aside from the cloud of gold and magenta dust which was produced. It was from this cloud that the rain came—a warm, earthy, nutritious rain of magenta tipped stalks. It was for this life-giving rain that I had come—I along with about seven thousand others.

Click here if you want to keep reading!

Keep your head up. The wind could change tomorrow. 😉

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