Daddy Vick started screaming for the aliens to take him away when the green lights showed up in the sky. It was a bug-bite summer drenched in river water. Everyone was sunburned, drunk, or sugar-high around the fire, toasting marshmallows and melting beer bottles. Then light drenched us like a sci-fi movie where no one lives. Some of us screamed, but Daddy Vick in his war vet, pickup-truck, ball-cap glory raised his hands up high and begged to be abducted. Our skinned knees were shaking, and let me tell you when the light was gone and the dark came back we were all still sitting there. We kids ran over the wet grass like wild ponies and into the cold tumble of the air conditioning, blinking in the fluorescent light. We made “NO ALIENS WELCOME HERE” signs and taped them to the inside of every window. We think it worked. In any case, we’re all still here.
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Maria Burns (she/her) is a writer, actress, and creative writing instructor currently based in VA. She holds a BA in Theatre from The College of William and Mary and a MFA in Fiction from Goddard College. Her work has been published in The Daily Drunk, The Pitkin Review, and Nota Bene. Her short plays have been performed on both coasts. She is currently querying her first novel. Twitter: @MariaElizaBEE
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image: MM Kaufman
Rejection Letters 