Take Me To The Moon

 
Take Me To The Moon
by Catie Rutley
Take Me To The Moon was the slogan plastered along the side of the taxi pod. It was probably the most boring slogan I could see with my antenna as I searched up and down the row of taxi pods, waiting for passengers at the terminal. My type of taxi pod.
Dejectedly, I punched the blue button that would slide up the back porthole and clambered in. My suitcase was much too large to fit through the porthole, so I made a split-second decision to leave it by the side of the road. It would probably still be there when, and if, I came back. After all, in 3999, people had better things to do then to steal ugly suitcases full of even uglier clothes.
I could tell the young glork in the front seat was glaring at me, even though he was facing forward. I silently admired his purple bow tie, and glanced down at my own crumpled suit.
“Welcome to Take Me To The Moon taxi service.” He said, in a flat monotone. “Which landing port would you like to arrive at today, sir?”
I sighed. “Don’t really care,” I mumbled. Fahra. Lakksport. Jjloop. Mlehan. Qwarble. They were all the same to me. Those shiny silver ports that- at first- had held my dream of being Igorg’s devoted husband. Now, everything was so different. All held haunted memories of my past with her.
“Jjloop it is.” The glork programmed the destination into the pod’s hyper drive and sat back, his hands cradled behind his head, immediately becoming unprofessional as soon as the pod lurched forward. “So, dude… what’s up with you? You look more depressed than a human without an oxygen mask.”
“Don’t feel much like talking about it.” I groaned, staring out the window at the meteors floating by as we zoomed along our course. “It’s kind of personal, you know?”
The glork turned around and looked my straight in the antenna, it’s large green eye as serious as I’d ever seen any creature’s who descended from Plutopia. “Female specimens just aren’t worth it, man.” He stated, sure in his beliefs. “You know the wailer, Igorg? When I was younger, I had the biggest crush on her- I even fantasized about-” Here his voice got softer. “Cleaning her suction cups, you know?” The teenage glork shook his head. “Every relationship I’ve had since then… well, it doesn’t measure up to the fake relationship I had with her.”
At the mention of Igorg’s name, I had frozen, an ice block. The rest of my taxi pod’s driver’s words were left behind, like the stars in the wake of our rocket fuel. He stared at me curiously, until the truth finally dawned on him.
“Oh. My. Warfcla.” He rubbed his temples with both hands. “YOU were dating Igorg?? That three foot tall mass of green beauty?! Did you get to touch her tentacles??”
I nodded as a lone watery substance streaked down my cheek. “I was going to meet her at the Fahra port today, but she sent me a hologram about an hour ago, breaking up with me.” I handed my holo-projector over the glork so he could see the message for himself.
Her figure popped up in front of him, her arms flailing with sorrow. “Aaaaaa…” She began. “Florn, I have something to share with you. I don’t believe our relationship will survive much longer. You a kind, funny, personable mate, but I have recently discovered I just don’t find you attractive. I will leave you and look for a more suitable male specimen to spend my time with. Goodbye, Florn.” The holo-graphic image flickered, and then disappeared altogether.
“Ouch!” The glork winced. “Better luck next time! So, why are you going to the moon anyway?”
“Figure I could make a new start, you know?” I replied, discouraged. “I want to be an acrobat. I can put my suloreryn behind my haagash, you know.” The glork’s eyes widened, so I continued. “The Cirque de Lune has asked me to come out and show them what I’ve got.”
I stared as the port got closer and closer through the taxi pod’s window. The taxi pod glided into the station flawlessly and the glork cut the rocket power, screeching to a halt only a few inches from the taxi pod in front of us.
“That’ll be twenty-seven thousand four hundred and eighty-one vlos.” The glork extended his slimy right feeler, suddenly business-like again. I dug my wallet out of my kaquip and handed over the precious money. I mentally calculated if this meant I would have enough left for a meal later on that night.
Exiting the taxi pod, I could have sworn I heard him whisper, “Good luck.”
Distracted, I wandered down the terminal, until I found a window. Peering down at the craters in the gleaming soil, I thought about what I wanted here.
After a few minutes of deep pondering, I knew. I was hoping to find luck- and a serious case of amnesia- on the moon.