[You’ve been waiting for it…A war without Boris is not a war against that over-sized alien cockroach Boris without Boris. So here he is in all his slimy and cockroachy “glory” if you can call Boris’s nefarious presence that.]

Son of Boris

As the car jaunted over the rocky rises and dips of button grass studded hill and dale, I reclined in the arms of my husband. My memories transported me back to summer days of the beach, the sun, and my hometown Adelaide untainted by the corruption of Boris. Where Günter was himself, not some Grey Alien Boris’ second in command, not the blonde German Andreas. But even in my remembrances, the bitterness of reality and a universe at the mercy of Boris began to eat away at my peace.

An encounter with Boris wormed its way into my consciousness…

***

One of those summer days doused in grey…I rode my bike to the beach to collect shells. As I combed the surf-soaked sands of Somerton Beach, a man’s voice snapped me out of the zone. ‘Found anyone interesting?’

‘Nup, no bodies,’ I murmured.

‘That’s a shame, a nice-looking lady like you.’’

I fixed my sight on the grains of sand and ignored him. Hate those pickup lines.

‘Oh, what’s your problem? I’m not going to bite.’

I glanced at him—had to see what creep I was dealing with. Pale, pock-marked face, thirties and just a little taller than me at 165cm. He wore a grubby white t-shirt and brown trousers. “Never trust a man who wears brown trousers,” my school friend Liesel always said.

‘Come on, dear, just a little conversation. Tell me, what do you want more than anything in the world.’

I shrugged. ‘To leave me alone.’

‘Tell you what, you tell me, and I’ll leave you alone. Deal?’

I pushed my bike faster trying to escape this man, but he ran after me.

‘I promise, I’ll leave you alone—just tell me.’

Hopping on my bike I announced, ‘I don’t talk to strangers.’

‘I’m not going to hurt you. I bet, I bet you’re one of those girls who wants to get married, have a family, that’s what you want more than anything.’

‘If you say so, now leave me alone.’ I jumped on my bike and sped from the creepy little man with his odd questions.

‘Your desire will be arranged,’ he said as I splashed my bike wheels through the water. He then shouted, ‘But, I might add, there will be a price.’

‘Sure, sour grapes,’ I mumbled. Then pumping the pedals, I sailed along the damp-packed sand of Somerton beach. I glanced behind before alighting. The man in brown trousers was gone…

 ***

Was Salome right? Was I selfish? Using Günter? Surely not!

[…Chapter 4 continued on Wattpad]

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2023

*Feature Photo: Somerton Beach Sunset © L.M. Kling 2019

***

And now, for some Weekend Reading…

Go on a reading binge and discover the up close, personal and rather awkward relationship between Gunter and that nasty piece of cockroach-alien work Boris in…

The Hitch-hiker

See how Boris seeks revenge in…

Mission of the Unwilling

And the Mischief and Mayhem Boris manufactures in…

The Lost World of the Wends…