by Mnemosyne

"Are they still behind us?"

"Yes."

"Oh no.  We're not going to get out of this, Max, are we?"

"Don't say that, Liz.  Of course we are."

"But, if they see us . . ."

"Shhh . . . that's not going to happen."

"Crap!  Here they come!  Hide!"

Max hurriedly jumped behind the projector screen of the busy UFO Museum, and pushed Liz behind a fake yucca plant; one of many that Milton had brought in to give the museum a more outdoorsy feel.

"Max!" Liz hissed.

"What?"

"How am I supposed to hide behind this thing! It has no . . . volume!"

Max shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Just . . . look yucca!"

"Look yucca?  What on earth does that mean?"

"I don't know.  Just . . . act like a little dry tree in the middle of the desert."

Liz pondered that for a moment, while Max looked furtively around the crowded UFO Museum.  Of course, looking furtive in Roswell, New Mexico, is a surefire way to get yourself zinged by local law enforcement, so he was attempting to do it in the most unfurtive way possible, which resulted in him coming across as having mild back trauma and a bladder infection.

"Hey, Max?" Liz hissed again.

"What?"

"What's my motivation?"

Max turned a confused look on her. "Your what?"

Liz shrugged. "My motivation. You know? I mean, I'm supposed to act like a little dry tree in the middle of the desert. Yeah, great. That's wonderful. But what am I feeling?  I mean, am I supposed to be a healthy yucca, or a sickly yucca? Do I suffer from some sort of inferiority complex because I am yucca, and not saguaro? Or do I sound my barbaric yawp and cry, "I am yucca, hear me wither!"

Max just stared at her for a second. "Liz?"

"Yeah?"

"You're obsessing again."

"Oh.  I am?"

"Yeah.  Isn't your journal supposed to help channel these things?"

(to be continued . . .)

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Copyright © 2000 Late For The Sky by MadSeasonPress

Teaser Date:  October 24, 2000
Last modified:  November 4, 2000