I kid you not: this story was inspired by ‘Out of this World’ by the Jonas Brothers.
She doesn’t sleep well. Her circadian rhythms differ from ours, but when she doesn’t sleep, I can’t sleep. I lie in our bed, watching her at the window, gazing at the stars. She feels the pull of home – I know she does, try as she might to convince me she is happy in her new life, on her new world, with me.
I replay again the moment of our first meeting, tracking in my mind’s eye the path of the meteor across the night sky. Except it was no meteor. It landed in the north field and I ran out to see, to check the damage to the cash crop. And there she stood, shrouded in smoke, shimmering.
I had never seen a more beautiful girl on Earth.
I took her in, for water and shelter and fell into the iridescence of her eyes. I wait, she said. The beacon will take a while to reach my home. Others will come and collect me.
A selfish panic gripped me. While she showered, I headed outdoors. Putting out fires, I said.
Days passed and weeks passed as the world turned. The entrancing, enchanting creature delighted me in every way and I knew I could never be without her. How many girls will sit through Star Wars, and then belittle the story with accounts of her own experiences in intergalactic warfare?
She was – she is perfect.
We have a life on the farm. No one bothers us in our remoteness. No one interrupts our peace.
But I fear the connection between us may be too great. I fear that sooner or later she will look into me and see the truth.
She will read inside me where I hid the beacon and know that no one is coming for her.
And then what will I do?