Bits and Bots, odds and sods, flotsam and jetsam - one-shots, really short contest entries, lyrics for imaginary musicals, poems...random stuff that you don't trash because maybe they'll fit into something bigger one day.
(This was written as part of an exercise in the Literary Lounge, a writer's group on Discord. Using Ursula K. Le Guin's examples, we were tasked with writing a short piece describing things without the use of a single adverb or adjective. I highly recommend it.)
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As we prepared for landing, I couldn't escape the anxiety surrounding what we might find. We hadn't heard from these survivors in two weeks. This planet, this area of space, was not on any Alliance program. Navigation Officer Pixel had christened the galaxy "Far Away" and Admiral Chandler named the planet "SNAFU."
Upon landing on SNAFU, we'd each taken an area to explore, develop and test its viability as a place to live. The report from this group ended with a description of what seemed to be a death...by ingestion and regurgitation. That was all – no explanations, no theories, no details. Lieutenant Byrd's recording ended with a half-sentence: "Stop! Don't come..."
We walked half a mile to the Lab and Control Center, calling out to the crew as we passed their barracks. No one answered, no sound broke the silence. The ground was soft, and our footprints disappeared as if we were walking on foam. It was Science Officer Solares who noticed insects swarming in trails on the ground.
They stretched on as far as my eyes could see. On a whim, I used a branch to brush them away, only to reveal ribbons of blood, fragments of bone and skin that lay in shreds mixed with other body parts. Someone tripped over a pair of feet that were sticking out of the ground, toes still wiggling.
