The other day, I overheard someone talking about soap operas and suspended animation in the same conversation. So I said soap operas would be a lot better if they included SF elements. I tweeted out this story yesterday on @SorinaHiggins. Here it is in full.
If Soap Operas Met Science Fiction
“Darling!” He exclaimed, on his knees. “I’ll do anything for you! What do you want me to do? Leave my wife and kids? Run off with you to the Riviera? Buy you a yacht?”
“Hold out your arm,” she said.
She put out one hand, and purple suction cups blossomed from each fingertip. Schlook! They squelched onto his forearm, sucking little bubbles of flesh up into their moist interiors. He hollered in shock, then the yell turned into a gurgle as he felt what was being vacuumed through his veins, out through his skin, into her body.
It was energy. Pure energy. She was converting his caloric intake, his body’s electrical impulses, and every ounce of stored-up fat into a stream of vivid energy, melting him, draining him.
As he went limp and oozed slowly to the floor, she turned to the wall of her penthouse—his first gift to her when their fling had begun. She pressed her suction-cup fingertips to the wall and exhaled, long and slow. The marble wall changed to silver metal. The windows flickered as banks of control panels blinked into life. Her sequined designer dress slid from her body, which was scaly and sinuous.
The last thing he saw as he dissolved into oblivion was her spaceship detaching itself from the top of the apartment building and soaring off over Manhattan, and the last words he heard were:
“Never mind the Riviera, darling. You’ve given me the stars.”