Here’s a story based on my new series, Gulliver Station. The first book of the series, Gulliver Station: A New Start should be released near the end of January. Don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter where you’ll get first dibs on any promotions, book announcements, and other information. Go to the button on the right side of the blog or go to my Newsletter tab to sign up.

Gulliver Station Thanksgiving

Aine McCarthy was packing a lunch for her husband Dillon to take with him to work. “You know,” she said as he came into the kitchen, “Next week it will be one year we’ve been on Gulliver Station.”

He peeked inside the cloth bag she handed him. “Corned beef again?” he grinned.

“Go on with ya,” she smacked him in the shoulder. “It’s your favorite.”

He laughed as he pulled her close. “It is, and you’re my favorite for making it for me.” Then he gave her a long, slow kiss.

When they broke apart, he caressed her hair. “What were you sayin’ about next week?”

She reached up and pulled his hand to her heart. “It’s one year since we arrived. I think we should get some friends together for a little supper.”

He shrugged, “Sure’n that’s a fine thing by me.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I have to get to work.”

She walked him to the door. “See ya tonight.”

Aine contacted her friends. Some she knew and still was in touch with from the ship voyage out to the station from Earth. Some were new friends she’d met after they arrived. They all thought a celebration was a great idea.

The day of the dinner, Aine made a huge roast lamb. Not real lamb, of course. Gulliver Station wasn’t nearly ready to produce actual meat products. She’d had the soi-lamb before and found it to be nearly as good as the real product. As she was beggar poor before she and Dillon came here, she’d never had more than a taste of the real thing anyway. The rest of the guests were bringing the side dishes and desserts.

Dillon finished setting up the dining room table as a buffet and was opening a few plastic bottles of wine and one of whisky. Some entrepreneur from Old Earth Ireland was producing a rough whisky here on the station. Dillon thought it wouldn’t be long before the man perfected the recipe.

The guests began arriving and either Dillon or Aine greeted them at the door. Soon the table was loaded with food.

As drinks were poured and plates filled, they joked with each other about the change the move to the station had made in their lives.

“Aine,” Fiona Scally called out across the room. “Do you remember the first day you and I went to the Level 4 market?”

Aine blushed, “Of course I do.”

“You were so new, you didn’t even know what half the vegetables were in the market.”

The friends laughed good naturedly. It was the same for all of them. Most of them were near to homeless when they’d applied to come to the station. Most of them only ate once a day. “And why not, when I didn’t have a pot to cook them in,” Aine tossed back.  They all laughed again.

“And you, Clyde Bannon,” Dillon called to his friend on the sofa. “You hadn’t held a job a day in your life. I remember having to help you in the Dock Worker classes so you wouldn’t fail out.”

Clyde raised his glass to Dillon. “Very true, here’s to you, dragging me along with ye.”

The guests all cheered and toasted with them.

Dillon put his plate down. He raised his glass again. “Here’s to all of us. The day we decided to apply to come here was the best day of our lives. Gulliver Station, a place where we’re safe, housed, fed and have decent work for decent wages.”

“Here, here!” they all cheered and drank.

The End

598 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html