Foston Slacks - Time's Flies

10

He was kidding. Again. No eyes of little, blue furry creatures were desecrated while eating her strangely excellent alien meal. Once she had eaten the seventieth course of the meal, she didn't have the enthusiasm to move on to the dessert. Instead, she watched as Foston wrestled with the final eating utensil. It could have gone either way, but Foston got the upper hand, forcing the utensil to tap out after a gruelling thirteen-and-a-half minute fight. The dessert, afterwards, was delicious, Foston announced, and he took his bows at completing the marathon meal.

Crawling through the exit tunnel, they found themselves outside as the suns fell below the horizon. As soon as the last rays, no longer purple with only one sun's light peeking over the horizon in its last hurrah, but a delicate puce, from the opposite direction the next sun almost leapt into view, showering the alien world with a rich peppermint coloured light.

"Don't they have a night time here?" Clara knew she was moaning, but she had started to feel the tiredness catching up to her. It had been a long day.

"Oh, yes! Once every four hundred and fifty thousand years, no sun is in the sky and the entire hemisphere falls into pitch blackness." He swept his hand out, indicating the entire sky. "Everyone parties and insurance premiums go through the roof. Entire cities have died in cataclysms of motoring accidents. Marvellous."

"Right. Marvellous." Clara felt her belly, wondering why she didn't feel as if she were about to explode. "How come I don't feel like I've eaten everything? I don't even feel slightly full."

"Kapakapururu food is especially made so that you get all the nutrition your body needs, but only enough. The rest just dissipates harmlessly." He jerked his head as he had a second thought. "Well, mostly harmless. If you find yourself throttling yourself during the sleep period, it's probably indigestion. And, speaking of sleep, we should catch some while we can."

Foston pointed to another building across the chitin path. Clara assumed it was a hotel, but, after crawling through the entrance hole, she found herself in somewhere that looked like a hair salon, with banks of devices that resembled hair dryers. Several Kapakapururu sat in chairs with their heads inside the devices.

"I appreciate the thought, but I thing only industrial acid is going to move this hair." Without asking whether she wanted to sit down or not, Foston led her to one of the chairs, pushing her down into the seat and drawing the hair dryer over her head. She pushed it back up. "Honestly, I really don't think it'll work."

"How do you feel? Rested?" Foston must have jumped into the seat beside hers, and he started to stand as she did.

"I don't ..." She stopped. Thought about it. "Actually, yeah. I do. I feel like I've had the best sleep of my life."

"Brilliant devices, aren't they?" Foston faced a Kapakapururu, near the entrance hole, placed one hand on top of his head, the other beneath his chin, and flapped them while making gulping noises. When he'd finished, he turned back to Clara. "Phew! For a moment there, I thought my credit was going to be refused."

"So, let me get this straight. Those machines cram in a super-fast sleep cycle within seconds and you just paid for it by flapping your hands like an idiot?" She got on to her hands and knees to crawl through the exit.

"Yes! Now you're getting it!" Foston followed suit, dropping to the floor and followed her through the tunnel in the wall.

"I'm really not."

"I have to say, you're taking all this remarkably well." At the other end, he jumped up, brushing down the knees of his suit trousers. "Anyone would think you'd done this for years."

"Well, once you've worked in marketing for long enough, you get used to bonkers things happening." She looked around, wondering what strange thing would happen next.

"Oh, you work in marketing?"

"Not if I can help it." She waited for Foston to decide what they were going to do next. "You know, I quite like this place. It's weird, but fun. The food is amazing, the ... umm ... people are ... interesting and sleeping in a few seconds is a gift from the heavens. I could stay here."

"Ooh. No. You couldn't." Foston drew in a sharp breath through his teeth and scrunched his face up. "Every thirty seven point five Nirks (sort of like days), the entire population become slavering xenophobes and slaughter every alien they find. That lasts a Nirk or two before they all calm down again. Don't want to be here for that."

"Right. And how long before that happens again?" She now began staring at the surrounding Kapakapururu with distrust.

"Not for another ..." Foston looked at his watch, his eyes widening. "Well, best be off, eh? The Breach should be opening in five ... four ... three ... two ... one ... ... half ..."

Up ahead, the shimmering, wobbling Breach appeared from nowhere, sat in the middle of a group of Kapakapururu wearing bathing suits. Foston walked towards the Breach, careful not to get too close to the Kapakapururu. Easing himself around, ducking under limbs, avoiding eye contact. Clara copied him as exact as she could.

As they reached the Breach, she suddenly got the feeling of being watched. She looked around and saw the demeanour of the surrounding aliens change. Nothing felt friendly anymore. Growls began to reach her ears. Limbs became pointed and dangerous looking. Kapakapururu began shuffling towards them.

Without waiting for Foston, she lifted her foot and stepped forward through the Breach.

The taxi driver leaned on his horn, shouting something incomprehensible through the windscreen, forming his fingers into a barrel shape and shaking it at her, then hooking his thumb over his shoulder. She wasn't particularly good at reading lips, but she felt certain the last word was 'off'.

A tug at the collar of her interview jacket and she found herself stood on the pavement, staring at the taxi driver as he drove away. Then she took a good look around, wondering where the Breach had sent her this time.

She recognised it. Really recognised it. The street. The people. The slight dusty tinge to the air. The incredibly badly designed building opposite. She knew this place like she knew the back of her hand.

"You've done it! You bloody brilliant furry bugger you!" She spun around, holding her arms out wide and laughed. A big, hearty belly laugh. The kind that had made certain boyfriends stop returning her calls. "I'm home. This is home. This is my street! That's my flat, over there."

"Ah. Not quite, I'm afraid." Foston dropped his arm after checking his watch several times. He caught Clara by her shoulders and turned her to face across the street, pointing at something. Someone.

"That ... that's me!" Clara watched as Clara walked down the street, a spring in her step, hair drifting in a blaze of silky awesomeness behind her as she moved. "My hair looks amazing! And those shoes! My god, I would kill for those shoes. How can I be over there, when I'm here? Wait."

Clara waved for a taxi and two screeched to a halt beside her. Clara watched as one driver jumped from the cab, running around the front of the car to open the door for Clara. Once Clara was ensconced within the vehicle, Clara saw the driver give Clara the thumbs up through the window, before racing back around to jump back into the cab.

Clara gaped as Clara disappeared in the taxi, up the road in the direction of the interview Clara had failed to attend. That failure of attendance leading to this very moment where Clara considered that Clara was, in fact, a complete bitch. Clara envied Clara. Clara wanted Clara's shoes. And hair.

"What. The. Hell?" Clara turned on Foston, pointing in the direction Clara and the taxi had gone. "That. What was that? Who was that? And why was she so obviously the most awful person ever?"

"That was you. From another timeline. The Breach has moved us between realities and back a wee bit in time" Foston almost looked like he felt sympathy for her. He clearly understood she needed more explanation than that. "Well, at some point in your past, you had a decision to make. You went one way and another timeline split off where you went the other. I couldn't tell you what that decision was, but it clearly made you sort your life out. I mean, you looked fantastic. And happy. And wasn't that interview suit so much nicer than this one?"

Clara punched him.