Brendanthology 1 | Page 18

another, staring for what felt like hours. It was one of these times, when we shared our first kiss. We fumbled around like school-children on the sink, trying ever so clumsily to unlace each other’s bodices and knickers. All the while our cocks -- still hanging out of our trousers from our recent piss -- gleaming upwards like massive white fishes perpetually jumping out of some placid lake. Perhaps if I grasp his hand now… We drove by a group of stunted lads all holding signs high, the signs read things such as: Stunted Rights NOW, Health-care for Stunties, Have ye Forgotten us, GAMBIT-GOD?, etc. Their cries of equality could be heard even through the hover-car’s plasma barrier. “Fucking stunties… They’re all over the lands these days.” “Aye, but they’ll be the future, one day.” I said. “Pah!” he spat towards the lines in the middle of the holo-road. “I’d rather be a slave to spiders than bend knee to a stuntie.” Brendan’s unmitigated hate for stunties was always one of the few things I never understood of him. “Our kind is dwindling, Brendan. Before ye know it, stunties will be all that’s left, save a few of us, and by then we’ll be known as big-folk. This is the way of things. Just as the homosapiens before us.” Each species has their time, my friend… Even our days our limited. What matters is how we spend them. If only I had said that to him then and there. “Pah, I don’t believe the books and their talks of the old-kind. The Gambit-God put our kind here on Zalpha-Omega to cultivate for his great harvest, and when the time comes he will reap what we have sowed and we shall become one with the moon again as we once were.” “Perhaps that is so, but the bones prove there was folk before us…” Brendan pulled a hand out of the steering-gel and waved me off.