Left in the Dark
You told me your party trick was to imitate a black hole.
You covered my eyes with your hand, and when you took it away, you were gone. As was gravity. And time. And all the universe.
Bit of a shame, because I never got to show you how I can burp the national anthem.
Left in the Dark II
You asked me to watch your stuff while you went to the toilet.
As I said “yes,” my espresso became a black hole. Sucked the whole universe into the base of my cup.
But I’m a man of my word. I kept an eye on your stuff. It’ll be there when you return, albeit dotted across a billion dimensions.
Left in the Dark III
The aliens use keyboard shortcuts at the controls of the mothership.
CTRL + X cuts the contents of a planet out.
When they cut Earth, they selected everything but me.
Now I float alone in space, the rest of my planet on a clipboard, to be pasted somewhere without me.
Neil Clark is a writer from Edinburgh, The Universe and everywhere between and beyond. His work is published in Okay Donkey, The Molotov Cocktail, Five:2:One and other cool places. Find him at neilclarkwrites.wordpress.com or on Twitter, where he posts a new micro fiction most days @NeilRClark