The following ~450 word short was hastily written in response to a writing group challenge. The challenge's prompt was "I married a Martian." It's the first light-hearted thing I've written in a good while. I hope you enjoy!
I Married a Martian
by Jeff Hargett
Yes, I broke the interspecies marriage law, but how was I to know Cosp wanted to destroy Earth? I mean, he's a Martian. Why should he care?
Zelda told me I was asking for trouble. "All Martians want to destroy Earth," she said. Orson Wells tried to tell us, but nobody listened. Well, Chuck Jones listened and created Marvin, so maybe it had to do with Bugs getting the better of him on Saturday mornings.
It was a vortex relationship. I spotted him while on vacation. He was taking the same lunar orbit holiday cruise I was. I had to settle for the $999,999.99 cheap seats, but there he was three rows ahead of me on the left. I'm a sucker for silver hair and Cosp's hung past his shoulders. It highlighted that ever-so-sexy blue-tinted skin of his. That Martian smote me before he saw me. Three days and 250,000 miles later we were hunting for preachers.
Marrying a Martian ain't easy. The first thing you got to do is get to Iceland. It's the only place on Earth so far that's repealed that blasted law. And if that wasn't enough, finding somebody willing to join baby-face blue and auburn-topped ivory in holy matrimony is about as easy as eating triple-scoop butter pecan in the Mojave before it melts. And then they charge you extra.
We honeymooned there. Seven days and six nights with excursions to Greenland wasn't my idea. Cosp said it reminded him of home. Too much heat and his complexion turns all aqua, he said. I bought it. How was I to know the central complex for the planetary defense shield rested square in the middle of Greenland?
Our marriage was about as brief as our courtship was. There I was basking in Greenland's balmy twelve degree sunshine and every alarm on the planet goes crazy. Cosp said he was going to the lavatory. Didn't dawn on me until later that Martians void by sweating. It ain't as bad as it sounds though. It's odorless.
I never realized how fast those F-63s fly nowadays. Those older model jets never stood a chance at taking out ICBMs, but they apparently train those pilots well. They intercepted every nuke Cosp managed to launch.
I never saw my husband again. I guess they got him. It ain't like Martians can turn invisible or beam back to Mars. They never came after me though. Cosp must have kept us a secret. Say what you will, but that hunk of sexy alien had a soft spot for me in both of those blue hearts of his, ulterior motive or not.
Yes, I married a Martian, but blast my asteroids, I'd do it again.