DAY 13 - Sapphire Eyes in an Interstellar Zoo

Have you ever been held in an interstellar zoo? I only ask because you are staring at me with those wide eyes, pitying my poor soul. Sure, it’s cramped in here and the weather is hot. But what do you expect? We are traveling between the Five Stars to host live shows. We couldn’t possibly be staying in some upscale, state-of-the-art resort, now, could we? 

It’s a nice life, you might like it.

You’re still commiserating me. Stop it. I’m fine, really. What, with all the free food and free lodging in the greatest galaxies in the universe? What more could a man hope for?

Ah, yes. I guess I am not so much of a man as I am a Riggotor: part human part Martian. And yes, I see you staring. These are my real eyes. Beautiful aren’t they? You think I couldn’t spy with my seven little eyes that you are ogling these sapphires? Why, they are from my human side, of course. Martians have a boring burnt red color for eyes, but my blessed ancestors from my father’s side have quite the variety of color. And I got the blue kind. 

Lucky me.

Come on, now. We can talk for hours, but how off-putting it is to see the sorrow in your eyes. What is it? You can’t stand to see a beast shackled to his cell? It’s for your own safety, or so the zookeepers say. I wouldn’t hurt a flea. Well, maybe I would. I don’t know. Only Earth has fleas and we have been banned from having shows there.

Why? Perhaps because something about my having human ancestors prevents it. Who knows? Not that I really want to travel to that side of the stars anyway. Not my cup of tea, if you know what I mean.

But you seem to be worried about me, so let me tell you how great it actually is to be in this interstellar zoo. First off, the meals are great. We eat locally--you know, travel sustainability--so we in the zoo have the finest scraps the zookeepers could offer. They are eating like kings, and we, well…like the vermin of the kings. But have you tasted the crab legs? It’s to die for.

Another great thing is meeting new people every day. 

Like you. You seem like a swell person. You seem rather put together with your combed hair and your fashionable tastes. I bet you have an amazing life story yourself. Perhaps you can share it on a day when you aren’t pitying me. It would bum me out listening to someone tell a beautiful tale through seething tones of condescension and anguish.

Come tomorrow. It’s our last day. They say I can finally perform on the big stage at this Stellar Station. It beats twiddling my thumbs in this cage like I have been this past week. I only get the end shows. They never book me for the show starters. Perhaps because of my many eyes. Too much sparkle. I’d charm everyone away.

Ha, you’re right. It isn’t fair. Thank you for taking concern in my life and not being a pitying chump. In fact, I can score you some free tickets for tomorrow’s performance. Simply provide your name to the ticket booth when you arrive and I’ll have already told them to escort you to your show box, specially designed for you.

It’s a shame you are a normal being, otherwise I could have gotten the big cheese to let you join our shindig for a few weeks. It really is a great way to travel the stars. If you know any freaks, you should let them know we’re taking applications. 

But between you and me, make sure they have the average four eyes, otherwise they may be put into chains like me.

Oh, you have to go? No worries. It was great chatting with you. Enjoy the rest of the interstellar zoo and say hi to the Rambling Rhino for me. Be quick about that stop--he talks longer than me! But he’s a delight. Furry and huggable--if you’d mind that jagged horn!

Off you go. There’s a line forming.

Welcome to the InterStellar Zoo of Stellar Beasts. No flash photography, please.

Prompt: Have you ever been held in an interstellar zoo?

(c) 2020 Kevin Barrick