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The physiological adjustment required of me Mondays would’ve ordinarily had me skip this one, but for a coincidental “slow news day” article: the Italian bombshell (late of Reddit) had since retired to a life of public service, which included rescue missions in her flying car. I was with old mates Michael Su and Rajeev Gantela on such a excursion to a wildfire site, which began over harmless enough ramps, then took to the air with the kind of launch so common in my dreams, that we couldn’t possibly survive. I turned to my panicked companions and asked them if either of them did, to give my family my love, but prematurely. The incident left me skeptical, however, despite playback of the landing, so Ms. Loren took it upon herself to prove to me that the ride hadn’t been a ruse by returning me to our safety seats in a dark room. The cross arrangement and wiring reminded me of the “Back to Reality” episode of Red Dwarf, didn’t it?

I was driving through Cypress with the mother-in-law when the red and blue lights of a police car appeared to my left and directed me to pull over by literally throwing a smaller flashing one onto my hood.  This was, I had just learned, how it’s done, but as it seemed unlikely that a lone driver could handle it without a passenger’s assistance, I surmised before complying that it must’ve been launched from a control inside.  It was a tight fit between two parked vehicles, but there was more on my mind, like exactly what I had done (I might’ve made an illegal turn at the last intersection, which would embarrass me in front of Mrs. Lin after making a big deal about Sheila having done the same just a week ago; or more likely, the cops were busting me for reading forbidden literature by hacking into my Kindle) and what I would do now that this town could go fuck itself.

Worse, when our business was concluded, the stress of the situation had gotten to me and I carelessly bumped the car behind me returning to the road.  It was a large old American sedan, the kind which we used to call boats, so given the difference in weight and amount of steel—had the elderly owner left it off the parking brake—the RAV4 should not caused it to roll away as it did.  In light of compounding my legal infractions insurance premium hikes, I chose to flee the woe that my life had become, and found salvation above: dark clouds collected unnaturally with a fringe of Kirby dots and aliens descended in the form of menacing red or blue bubbles, which apparently distinguished their genders.  They were slow enough for me to evade or shake off, but most everyone else, children, the mother-in-law included, got enveloped and carried away, their bodies used as hosts.  The human race would eventually evolve the power of flight to resist the invasion, or so the epilogue revealed.