busyThe human race was enslaved by this uber-hot elf-like species. One of the guards at the prison camp liked me (or was thankful for something I did, or something), so he paid for me to go to (the alien equivalent of) Food4Less and get a whole cartful of human food (as opposed to the crap diet in the camps).
My dad came with, and we did our separate shopping, but when we get back out our car was missing. So we wander around looking for it for a bit. My guard friend zooms up (I never did give him a name), and tells us to get in the car, now. So we upend the cart into his trunk and get in (I sit in the front, my dad in the back). He tells us they've started wholesale-slaughtering humans in the camps and we need to get out of there.
"Des, look in the glovebox."
I open the glovebox. Inside are two handheld weapons packed in their casing. I reach to take one.
"Stop! You realize that as soon as you touch one of those, you are condemned to death, right? Any human found with a weapon is to be shot on sight."
I take a breath. "I know."
I pick up the weapon. It feels heavy, but easily-manageable. I sit with it in my lap as the hovercar winds its way through the city streets, turning it over and over in my hands. I take the other one out of the glovebox and pass it back to my father, who takes it wordlessly.
[At this point, I started waking up so it turns into a daydream. Maybe I'll continue/develop this later, we'll see.]
-- Des
