Fable Friday – Crop Circles

I talked about this absurd fable with Sabrina yesterday and I literally made her laugh to tears. So it ought to be something acceptable to return to the Fable Friday tradition. (Hey Sab, is it yellow or not?)
This fable is inspired by one of my NaSty friend, Alyssa. She just caught up on Unforeseen Dives, leaving comments and smileys on each post as she read them. I joked and told her she would soon rely on “Alyssa was here” or crop circles to signal her presence. That was all I needed to come up with this story.

                                      

Crop Circles
An Absurd Fable In Which Thumb-Sized Alien Conquer The Earth.

Elijah stirred behind me. I turned around within the cradle of his arms to face his recently opened eyes. He looked scrumptious. I succumbed to the silent call of his lips and kissed him good morning.
“Morning, love!” He murmured when I pulled back. I smiled.
Though her methods could be criticized – and you know I do that to my heart’s contempt –, I had to admit Granny was right once again; Elijah was exactly what I needed, what I hadn’t known I was looking for. I nuzzled his neck tenderly.
As it turned out, I didn’t strangle Granny Kianga for tricking me into Elijah’s arms with curtains and aphrodisiacs. She still was out of my hair for the next week. Every year, for the past ten years, she took a one week trip to see friends and work on their knitting project. “Ten years for one project?” I hear you think. Well, truth be told, it’s quite a project: Granny’s knitting world peace. If anyone can do it…
Since I wasn’t so busy narrating her life these days, I spent most of my time with Elijah switching between two main activities: sleeping and a second one that really doesn’t need to be spelled out if you’re mature enough to have the right to read about it.
“We’re out of food, aren’t we?” Elijah asked after his stomach loudly stated its need.
“Afraid so.”
“So it’s either grocery shopping or moving this party to my house.”
“Either way we have to get dressed, don’t we?”
“Afraid so.”
I mumbled a bit before finally rolling off the bed. I shimmied in my jeans and a random loose top.
“Love,” Elijah called with a crooked smile, “that’s my shirt.”
I glanced at what I was wearing and winked to my boyfriend.
“Indeed, it is. Both the weather and you are hot enough to go bare chest.”
He drew me close and kissed me passionately, running his hands under his shirt. His stomach complained again. We laughed.
“So, groceries or my place?”
“Your place is faster.”
Elijah lived on the other side of the corn field. We decided to walk. The temperature called for it. As we strode past the greenery, I noticed a dent in the straight line of corn. No plant grew in the small clearing. Peapods filled with popcorn littered the grass.
Wait, that couldn’t be right.
I bent closer and realized that I’d been right about the popcorn. The containers, however, weren’t peapods. They were aliens. Tiny, green and wide-eyed, dead aliens. What else could they be?
“What happened here?” Elijah exclaimed.
“Slight miscalculation.” The voice raised a few pods in front of me. With an ever-so-careful hand, I plucked a survivor from the mayhem. He sat in my palm, tears streaming down his emerald cheeks. “Mission: Claim round Earth in space. Mission status: failed.”
“What exactly do you mean?”
“Big aliens always have claim. Last crop circle drawn by teeth states owner. Small aliens tired of being picked on. Small aliens attempted crop circle.” His speech was really laborious but I got the point.
“How did they… pop?” Elijah asked. “Pop” sounded about right to describe the death of thumb-sized aliens by way of popcorn bursting their belly open.
“Slight miscalculation. Higher body temperature.” I wondered if I should shake Mister Thumbelalien off my palm before I ended up with a handful of alien-flavored popcorn.
“How did you survive?” Ah! Blessed be Elijah for his brilliant questions. I love him.
“Ate leaves.”
A moan drew my attention and I picked up another survivor. Elijah and I nodded in silent agreement and searched for other lucky tiny fellows. Out of the hundred or so lying there, we found twenty still breathing, one of which was ready to pop. His companions prayed for his soul.
We buried the dead while I tried to figure out what to do with the refugees. They were apparently meant to live on Earth but could only morph into something inconspicuous once they successfully completed a crop circle. Stupid rules.
Eureka!
I walked a bit further with Elijah, and then turned toward Granny’s house. I kissed my brand spanking new, barely dressed, sexy as hell boyfriend and sent him home to prep our breakfast.
Granny Kianga asked me to water her flower boxes while she was gone. All of them were round, floating in the surrounding space. I dropped the aliens in the biggest one.
“Why don’t you try chewing your crop circle here? It’s round, earthy and hanging around in space.”
“On round Earth in space.”
“It’s a bonus!”
I stood back and smiled as the aliens munched their way around the flower box. I thought about messing with Granny’s flower once or twice as a form of mild vengeance. If I just stopped watering them, I would get the scolding of a lifetime. Now if I saved an alien troop by “unfortunately” ruining a flower box…
Upon the completion of the crop circle, the surviving aliens disappeared, morphing into inconspicuous fireflies. They waltzed around my head, then flew away toward better days.

The moral of this fable, contrary to my habits, is threefold. Who died to make it so? Well, aliens! Haven’t you been paying attention?
First, do not succumb to peer pressure; it’ll kill who you are.
Second, do not kill yourself at work; you have better things to live for.
Third, there is no shame in biting just what you can chew.