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Steve Phlutch saw the sign. He was disgusted with himself for thinking that his ticket would finally win out. He knew that there was always a greater chance of being killed by a meteor. The aliens had taken over his home planet. They sent the first invasion so abruptly that nobody knew what to do, and so he readied himself for war. He thought that he was prepared for anything that the aliens could throw at him.

The invasion unraveled his plans, and so he packed up a few pieces of bread, a few bullets, a blade, and a few other pieces of food, and so he headed off to the library, which was built by the aliens. They had inserted a guidance system to control the population, but everybody except, he, were controlled from the mass-control chips. He avoided the library because, as far as he knew, the aliens had to search for people with control chips.

It may have been a bit irrational thinking, but the aliens had taken everything else, so he figured that he could avoid a few more hours of mass control. The aliens, in his view, had given up on controlling him. They had so many other things to do, but Steve worked all day in the sand, which was the only semi-luxurious activity that took place on the planet.

He laid in the sand all day. Most people on the planet sat in the library or on their rovers. He was on his own. He kept a small supply of food, since he was resupplied on rare occasions, and he managed to avoid the aliens for most of the week. The only thing he worried about were the meteor showers that the aliens used to end wars.

The only way to see a meteor shower was by climbing a part of the rock wall, which was another nice thing the aliens had done. He had always avoided the hand cars, but the aliens seemed to have forgotten how to ride them. The highways that took him from one area to another, also bare, seemed to be out of commission. He remembered that the rocks were used in multiple ways, and so he wandered about looking for an "exit."

He wandered along the road, which was located in the middle of a wasteland, which was no longer occupied by the aliens. He had been alone in the entire region for the past ten years. He kept to the middle of the barren land, and then he saw a sign.

There was a sign in the middle of the desert. It was partially damaged, but it was still standing. He could barely make out the message, since the middle of the desert was covered with sand from the last meteor shower that the aliens had sent. He was covered in sand when he entered the compound. The news that was conveyed by the sign unnerved him, but he did not know why. It did not seem like anything had changed, except for his thinking.

The aliens bent over backwards to give him everything he needed to survive. Maybe that was the problem. His whole life was spent surviving, but nothing else. There were no luxuries and no future. He had given over his life to the aliens. The aliens had done something to him, and the sign was the first indicator of a change in activity. The aliens had retreated, but they had left the sign in the middle of the desert. The sign might have been a trap, or it might not have been.

He was not looking for anything different, he was just trying to survive, and the sign made his jaw drop. He did not believe the sign, because he was on borrowed time, and chances are if the sign was a trap, he would be gone by morning. If the aliens were scanning his mind, they would know that he was going to be visiting the sign, but the sign would still be there tomorrow. He never could figure out how the aliens could read his mind, but they did. He had no idea how they could send him a message without him seeing; it was a mystery to him.

And so the sign in the middle of the desert, or at least the message, brought him hope. All hope was not lost, and so Steve set off on his rover to find the new information that the sign held. He rode his rover at top speed for the next few hours, and then he saw the sign in the middle of the road, only a few miles away. He had a feeling that he was not supposed to be out in the wilderness that long, and so he ran through the desert and raced toward the sign. It was a glaring green sign.

Steve decided to climb the incline and climb the rock wall. He was tempted to walk away from the sign, yet he found himself compelled to follow where the sign led. He slipped in the sand and almost fell off the rock wall, but he managed to build his way up to the sign. He stepped over the sign and smiled. He had won the game.

He was guiding himself to an unknown region, but he reached the top in a few hours. He climbed through the rock wall and came out in the middle of a large field. He knew that the aliens should have left this place by now, but he did not have the time to think about it. He was just happy to be in this new space.

He looked down, and he saw the signs, which had now changed to one word. They were simple signs. The first word said: "Welcome." The firs word did not say "Welcome" it said "Happy." He had been afraid that he was lost in the desert for the rest of his life. He did not know how long he was going to be lost in the desert, and so he sighed with relief. If he was where he thought he was, then these were not aliens, or rather, they were not aliens that were plotting against him.

"Thank you, aliens, for bringing me here," Steve thought. He was not really sure if the signs were intended for him, but they did manage to change his future. He climbed down the rock wall and sat on his sandy rock. He knew that he would be safe there, and so he continued to go about his business. He sat there and waited for the rest of the signs to change. He was skeptical at first, but he knew that they could not be aliens, because the aliens only occupied the planet, and they never stayed anywhere for long.

He had seen them come and go countless times, and so he had given up trying to find them. He knew that they would not allow him to leave, so he stayed in the desert. He figured that the sand might as well be his home, and so he blended into the rocks, even though he had no control over the sand. He walked to the library each day, and he wrote stories about sand.

His writing was horrible. It was a very bitter attempt at writing, and he had never published anything. He never published this story, nor any others. Most people on the planet could not write, because they had been originally taught to read only the signs that controlled them. He had a knack for survival. He knew that he was not supposed to be there, but he figured that he would be safe so long as he stayed there.

"Stay here a moment," he told himself, and so he sat on the rock that he had climbed down. With his hand over the sign, the sign went away, and he sat there for a moment, looking at the sandy rock. The rock, which the sand had adapted to, was a rock that had been broken and then hewed into smaller pieces. He inched up the crust of the rock and soon found a place to sit.

"It doesn't seem to matter that I have words here now, since I can't read them," he said to himself, and he silently laughed. "…and the aliens have taken everything else." He placed his hand over a rock and felt the foreign environment of the rocky desert.

"Funny," he said, and he laughed. He laughed at life on the planet. He could not read, and his writing had nothing to do with his daily experience, but he was very happy. He was happy not to have the alien threat.


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