The booming bass of the ship’s landing shook Ryland to his core, feeding his migraine. He turned to his bed, took 1000mg of pills, downed a NyQuil, and promised himself he’d shower tomorrow.

While he slept, he dreamed of screaming and raging animals scratching at his door, a cat howling in his ears, and within three hours he’d wet the bed.

A grown man who peed in his own bed as aliens were invading. He would never have imagined that this would be the description of his death in the papers.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s