The ship arrived on the Avritech-1 landing surface; millions of pilgrims sipping out by the harbor stairs. July was ecstatic as hell, she and her boyfriend Marc had enjoyed the
space jump, through time, aboard the Endeavour.
The pilgrims exchanged flowers as they met and mixed with their new denizens; the euphoria was blissful, Arthriaca’s scented puffs of wind and sharry (synthetic colored cotton buds) coupled with the cold light of Avritech-1’s blue megaLum serenaded the entire picture-perfect atmospherics.
Reed was a gentle spirited boy; he strolled quietly through the crowd; a handsome smile on his face. His aim was solid as diamond in his head; by his heart, he wanted to find him his love, and a friend, in no particular order.
His heart scanned through myriad faces, actions, shifts; any somewhat interesting, striking or beautiful movement; any unusual vibe; any tick-tock eye contact that boded romance or biological flight or love. Drop! Sayah dropped a cup of Slush (TM); her blushes too subtle to be visible to the naked eye; the distortion she caused around her area was a moon in a galaxy of stars; the liquid sipping around the tiled floor with a meanness reminiscent of Sylvester Stallone’s lips pursed; when he meets a nemesis, in an action-packed thriller; yes the liquid moved with a precision akin to the orbits of a comet; Reed couldn’t readily decide in his head what to look at because he could feel in his heart a pinching disturbance, whether it was from the liquid flowing towards his feet or from the beauty of – bang! There it was. Beauty and a tick; and ofcourse a tock.
Can I help yuo with that? Now the blushes came visible. Ofcourse his heart’s palpitation’s were now sudden and hefty. No thank yuo, she said. He yanked out his handkerchief from his pocket and made good use of it; cleaning Sayah’s Slush mess she had on her gown. Thank yuo, she said – half smiling.
Marc had to expend much energy, trying to keep July in control of herself; she had already contacted Mya and Franck, who had agreed on a rendezvous point, at the Asgarde’s plot. He himself was still almost dazed, soaking in the sheer loveliness of Arthriaca hospitality; the scents were heavenly.