SF Drabble #425 “Mars Ain’t The Kind Of Place”

The computer intoned, “Receiving an audio message from Harold.”

“Put it through to my suit comms.” She pulled at the burned-out component again, but it just wouldn’t budge.

“Message begins: ‘Listen Cecily, I know you’d rather not be bothered with any of this, but Vince was fighting in school again today, and Gynny won’t eat anything I make her. I need you to record a message for them. I’m at my wit’s end. That’s it.’ Message complete.”

“Record reply.”


She looked down at the butterscotch-tan planet rotating below her. Fucking handle it, Harold, I’m a little busy right now.”

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