Kimberly “Kimmie” Helmond was punctual to a fault she tried not to blame her comrades Shirley Hassa and Eliot Irving (both full names ingrained in brain for her incessant chanting to kill boredom) for not appearing until three hours after the promised time elapsed. Yet, as the desert dust stopped to unveil only Eliot, Kim thought she was given punishment of the gods for stealing the last of their water supply. That was before she saw what Eliot came on.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” he began, hands making elaborate gestures over his head. “Seriously, it was crazy.”
“You ride an emu.”

Kim gaped, fingers reaching out to touch the creature. Flesh and all, alive all these centuries? They didn’t come to this desert for nothing! Goodbye, poverty!
Eliot was still blabbering.

“So you see, we were right. Center of gravity and all– me and Shirl, we found these time machines, and you should know what we saw!”

Did he whack his head somewhere? The emu. Why was he so calm? This could be their golden ticket back to accredited archeology research.
“You ride a freaking emu.”

Eliot was not amused.
“Can you forget the emu? We see the earth devastated in seven months!”
“No, no, no. Let me get this straight. We were looking for fossils for these emu and you came riding one.”
“Kim, earth. boom. seven months.”

Profile Picture for Lisa Santika Onggrid
Raindrops, moon, words, ink. magic. I'm somewhere between the lines.

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