The Starship and George


There it was again, the first human voice since the party. I’d set out for a shindig to mark crossing the Heliopause, and ended up lost in the bowels of a Starship. A flagon of space grog and twelve pills saw to that.


The voice was getting closer. Three days wandering a maze of uniform corridors had me believing I’d never get out. Then I heard it call.



‘No -dya know a way outta here mate?’

-‘Of course, but I’m not leaving without George.’

‘Is he a friend of yours?’


‘Who’s George then?’

-‘I’m George.