Maybe I’m Just Bored?

This is a response to Fandango’s 12th weekly Flash Fiction Challenge.

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The prompt:

Artwork from: enriquelopezgarre@pixabay.com

Maybe I’m Just Bored?

I’m afraid I’ve lost my creativity. Or, as people in these circles like to call it, my “muse”. I look at this picture this morning and I get nothing. You’d think looking at overturned and leaky radioactive barrels and burned out nuclear reactors spitting funnels of death-filled smoke into a dying atmosphere would be enough to trigger my imagination into some sort of vision, wouldn’t you?

I’ve got nothing. Where is my inspiration? Creativity, why have you deserted me?

Maybe I’ve been doing this sort of thing too long and I need a change? They say change is good, and I suppose that’s true so what am I waiting for? Who am I waiting for? President Obama said that “We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.”

I can’t argue with that. I don’t know, maybe I’m just bored living here?

I was assigned to this outpost nearly 15 strarks ago. Assume jurisdiction over the planet, Gharvo. Enslave the natives, Gharvo. Direct the building of the harvesting plants and the warehouses, Gharvo. Oversee the cultivation, Gharvo. Transport the cultivated food back home, Gharvo.

Despite the discovery of coffee, it hasn’t been the most pleasant of assignments.

Where’s Gharvo? Get Gharvo. Give it to Gharvo. Gharvo this, Gharvo that. Have you ever grown tired of hearing your own name? So tired of hearing it that you just want to quit looking out your window while you enjoy your coffee in the morning, pack a sraaph-ka and go somewhere. . . somewhere else? I’m the change I seek, right? Maybe, maybe not. Just because he was a president doesn’t mean he was right and I’ve certainly seen enough of them come and go to know that.

In my time here on Brektos 3 I’ve seen close to 100 generations of humans come and go. I’ve watched women, men and children fight valiantly against the invasion and I’ve seen them die; die in such ways that their survivors herald them as Chruchqan. Heroes. They are challenging, these Earthlings, and determined to a fault. So much so that they’re willing to destroy their planet before we can.

Yes, I suppose I am bored. But I guess I’ll stay because these humans are oh, so delicious.

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