Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The Martians

There on Oak street stood a man.
And they said this man was crazy.
He looked this way, with his ragged clothes and staw hat, this creature who yelled profanites through beer stained teeth. His eyes shot in both directions and that seemed to frigten those around him, they were frightened because he was mad.
But he didn't care, he watched the stars and hoped they wouldn't take him to the nut house.

On the first day, folks were content to leave him alone, wallowing in insanity swaying back and forth in song telling passersby that Martians, yes Martians, were comming.
Comming to take children and wives for slaves and the men for meat.
To be the meat.
No one laughed at him, with his beer and songs, hoping for him to stop. Three feet away they walked from where he sat. And no children were allowed to pass him coins.
He drank alot, the world, accroding to his song, was going to end anyhow.

On the second day they talked about taking him somewhere. Somewhere for people like him, others who believed in ghosts and monsters.
And aliens.
He was a popular topic. Brave children asked him when the aliens were coming, he replied soon, and there was nothing to be done.
But drink, you see, like me.
And then they gigled, and laughed. And he, being the way he was, laughed with them.

On the third day they did take him to the mental home. He was amougst his brothers yelling at them about the Martians.
And they listened.
He asked the nurses for drinks, refusing showers or food, only whisky.
The other patients loved him.
The nurses were sad that a man so young could be so crazy.

And on the fourth day the aliens destroyed the world!

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