Originally written around 2007 - this was a contest entry. There's a bit of strong language in this one specifically the "a" word. Just FYI -

Perhaps it was the heady thought of Guiness chilling in the refrigerator at home. Perhaps it was the wafting aroma of green chile carried on the evening air. Perhaps I was exhausted after a week in corporate hell. Whatever the reason, my usual diligence failed me as I slipped from the protective circle of light in the parking lot and into the unknown.
I'll just swing into the first available space and sprint into the store. Seemed like a logical concept in my tiny villa - only a few blocks away from my house. I'll only be a moment.
Lost in my reverie of a worry free weekend, I sauntered across the parking lot, never noticing the three figures lurking only a few steps from my car. In a rush of sneakered footsteps and a flurry of arms I suddenly found myself sprawled face down on the pavement - my molesters receding into the darkness with my purse and my pride in tow.
"You sorry sonsa..." In an adrenalin induced panic I sprang to my feet, my head snapping right and then left as I scanned the parking lot. Then the nausea hit me. All my unfinished ideas were in that notebook. What was I thinking, taking my bag into the store? Hot tears welled unbidden in my eyes and I brushed them off angrily. Thank God I wasn't stupid enough to toss my keys in my purse.
"Excuse me Ma'am. Are you ok?"
"Don't even think about touching me. You have no idea who you're messing with." The sentence spilled from my lips before I could stop it as I spun around, keys brandished in my fist, prepared to pummel the living crap out of who ever just called me 'ma'am.'
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." The young man stared intently at me, his jade eyes flickering as they reflected the parking lot lights. He reached out his hand in greeting.
"Don't think so, Son. I'm only stupid once." I shook my keyed fist at him with all the venom my quivering flesh could muster after face planting in the parking lot.
"Well, I just saw what happened. I can help you. Do you need me to call some one? Your knee, well it looks pretty messed up." He let his hand fall to his side.
"I'm fine." I spat, jaws clenched. I took a breath and looked down at my kneecaps. Maybe he noticed they were shaking so violently they were slamming together. A trickle of bright red blood wound its way from my knee to my ankle, and an angry patch of rashy flesh covered the top of my foot. "Well, I'm fine except for missing a shoe."
"Its over there." He pointed a few feet away. "I really want to help you." He stepped toward me.
"You know what? I'm fine. I'm just gonna get in my car and drive home to my husband who is expecting me any time, and knows exactly where I am right now. So, thanks but no thanks." I straightened my frame and stomped backwards toward my car with all the force and authority I could muster as the young man continued to watch me intently. I threw myself into the drivers seat, slamming on the door lock mechanism, and revved the engine as I turned my lights on. Then I shot my most venomous look at the young stranger still standing in the parking lot. The slightest hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth as he raised one eyebrow and held a finger to his lips. He then bowed deeply and sprinted off in the direction of my attackers, his oversized green hoodie billowing behind him like a cape. Jerk! I bit my lip and threw the car into reverse, hearing a dull clunk as my back tire rolled over the shoe I'd neglected to retrieve. Stupid shoes. Stupid purse. I'm such an idiot.
I held back the tears until I was safely nestled in my familiar spot on the couch, chilled Guinness in hand. Then the sobs came as I recounted the events for my husband and children.
"Did you kick him in the ass, mom?" my younger boy piped up.
"Don't say ass. And no I didn't." I took a gulp of foamy stout.
"So what did this kid look like? Maybe I will run into him at school tomorrow." My hulking teen smacked his beefy fist against his palm in a threatening motion.
"Um yeah. Four against one. I don't know. He looked kinda like Robin Hood. You know, mysterious eyes, quiet demeanor and a great big cape like sweat jacket. Forest green."
"Sure, mom. Robin Hood swipes your purse in the parking lot. Mom, robbed in the hood!" The conversation dissolved into giggling as someone suddenly knocked hard on the front door.
"Who is that at this late hour."
"Maybe its Robin the Hood." My younger boy pulled his knees up under his chin and rolled on the floor as he laughed.
"Don't laugh at your mother. Honey, I told you you shouldn't carry your whole life around in that giant bag lady thing." My husband pursed his lips and sighed.
"Yeah, well my life is over now, huh. Get up and see who it was, Son."
"Dang mom, we're just joking." My older son uncurled himself from beside me on the couch and walked the few steps to the front door. He opened it wide and peered out into darkness. "No one's here, Mom. Hey is this stuff yours?" He turned to face me, my stolen purse dangling from one finger as he clutched a pair of new shoes in the other.
"My purse." I snatched the bag away from my child. Rifling through it, I found everything in place, money, credit cards and my precious notebook. A page fluttered out of the notebook as I flipped through it. It came to rest on the floor.
"What's that, a love note? Dear, ma'am - here's your purse. You'll find all is in order. I hope the shoes are to your liking. Best regards....Robin..."
"Gimme that!" I snatched the note away from my younger boy. Robin? Suddenly the image of a jade eyed, green clad young man flooded my memory. I smiled as I stared out my open front door into the darkened night. Thank you Robin. Where ever you are.
TL Boehm 

Downriver from Salina.
Outside the biosphere.

Minmodir,
Several sun cycles have now passed since the serpents kiss and the great lie that freed me from servitude, if only to perpetuate the mythos that this sad land now venerates more than the orb in the sky which still gives life. The land is lush and the water clear, but Aeviljoss’s legacy I cannot bear to tell you. The halfken. The shadow skimmers. They know not who they once were, and the chosen few still carrying Aevi’s uncorrupted DNA seem less human than the slithering, finny halffokl. We foster two creatures who, if allowed to procreate, will inevitably see their offspring’s offspring return to the deep and leave the land of men behind. What has been unleashed in fear will eventually eclipse the human race.
Donavan sleeps, fitfully, but he sleeps. He has an instinctive disdain for anything reptilian, and I sense his dreams are fraught with sinewy, fanged monsters who coil about him as they drag him to the black hole at the center of all we know. Salina’s temple whores were a hungry lot, and for all his Protectorate training, life outside New Ephesus is wild and raw. Commander Turza is a wise man, but perhaps his myopia for his chosen cadet has put us both in danger that will be our end. We still don’t fully know our mission, and now, after the bloodletting at Salina, I fear Donavan seeks my demise more than my camaraderie. That I only slightly injured him to prevent a host of nubile succubi from killing him bears little merit when the wounds on his throat are fresh and close to the carotid. And I took no pleasure in it, although his lengthened sleep patterns afford me a certain respite.
Perhaps the panacea (which it is rumored the protectorates will seek) is truly a myth set down to distract addled young ones from the looming knowledge that our stars are set in the bowl of a simulated sky, our days regulated, and our offspring—if we are chosen to repeat ourselves—is as predetermined as the pattern of morning following night.
I am told the verdant perimeter where we now travel is simply overspill from the effect of biospheres. The rest of Earth is inhospitable, tormented. You would tell me the ghosts of carnage past now haunt it. Perhaps we will end, as so many others must have ended, our bones consumed by the unrelenting wind and heat and the gnaw of Banamadr’s children. And should we prevail, what form will victory take? As sure as I know I write words you will never see, I believe I will never see the inside of New Ephesus on this side of the black hole’s event horizon. Yet, as sure as I believe when I set this gall and leaf to light, my message will reach you through the ether as even the black hole is the end of one place and the beginning of another. Take each pen stroke as a whisper to your heart, Minmodir.
I will see you again when the circles complete and we stand as one.
 
May the creator bless you richly.
 
Your Rellion. 

- Author Note - 
Rellion is a lead character from my yet to be published novel Ephesus Offense. Turned out with only her wits and an unproven soldier as partner, the only thing Rellion can count on is that there will be danger in the days ahead. The excerpt is a letter she has written to a mother she's not seen since she was traded to the very biosphere that released her to her destiny. 
​ 

​“Got nori?”

​ “Fresh hydracol.”
 
“Crispy cricket protein packs inside.”
 
The digital display pulsed, glowing through Carlyle Conner’s palm as she leaned to steady herself against the recharging post. Even the thick blood pooling on the display surface was not enough to block the barrage of programmed ads. “Legacy credit omega,” she spoke through clenched teeth.
 
“Unrecognized. Please use credit scan pad or voice command.”
 
Carlyle grabbed the heavy charging cord in both hands and gave it a tug. “Legacy post alpha.”
 
“Unrecognized. Please use—”
 
“You stupid machine!” she swung a heavily booted foot at the base of the post, wedging a spike in its weather worn edge. “Zeta protocol! Connor Seven! Activate override!”
 
“Please initiate recharge sequence by—”
 
“Oh, shut the hell up!” Carlyle yanked her foot from its booted prison, spun around, and shoved the recharge mechanism into the auto hover’s receiver. As pain shot through her body, she lifted her hand to her face. Her gut twisted reflexively as she studied the pencil-sized hole punched through her palm.  Unhooking the charger, she stumbled around to the driver door and dragged her traumatized frame inside. The beast had given her a real trouncing, but this time Cthulu’s bastard spawn wasn’t walking away. It’s severed head, and most of what Carlyle hoped was spinal cord, rested in the passenger’s seat, its heart and reproductive organs glistening in the artificial light cast by the recharging station lamps. Her stomach heaved and Carlyle fought back a mouthful of vomit. “Ignition sequence.”
 
“Please position face for orbital scan.”
 
Carlyle clenched her teeth as she attempted to open her swollen eyelids wide enough for the onboard scanner.
 
“Unrecognized. Please reposition or use digit interface.”
 
Her hands now shaking uncontrollably, she placed a lacerated finger on the secondary scanner unit.
 
“Unrecognized. Please identify or exit craft.”
 
Carlyle slammed her fists against the operation panel, firing off a volley of curses and unintelligible noise.
“Theft activity detected, initiating destruct sequence phi—”
 
“Oh my God no! Alpha protocol! Legacy station sequence Adam! Alpha protocol!”
 
“Welcome, Commander Conner. Commencing sequence Adam.” The auto hover whirred to life, accelerating skyward as Carlyle Conner felt consciousness slipping away.
 
A massive jolt threw her heavily injured body into the command panel of the auto hover as the machine forcibly impacted on the ground. Carlyle struggled to regain control of her mind as an ululating scream tore its way down her ear canal and into her brain. Her victim’s death stench must have attracted its mates. She fought her way into a sitting position a second before the first of the beast’s swarm mates hurled itself against the auto hover’s windshield, splintering the protective glass into a thousand shards that pierced Carlyle’s bio armor in a deadly spray of spines. She screamed in pain and terror as she
realized the beast was too close for her to get off a kill shot. As its venomous fangs engulfed her cranium she heard the auto hover’s mechanical voice response system.
 
“Theft detected. Self-destruct sequence phi beta omega activated.”
 
“Commander Conner, wake up. Commander, can you hear me?”
 
Carlyle bolted upright, every muscle taut as she screamed. “Alpha protocol!”
 
“Conner! You’re in Helio station,” a soothing voice respond ed. “Everything is going to be all right. You need to calm down. Conner, are you conscious?” Bio tech lead Corazon spoke evenly while two orderlies grappled the commander back to a supine position on her bed.
 
Conner took a deep breath, surveying the sterile surroundings before fixing her eyes on the tech lead. Depth perception. Her hand touched her face reflexively as she realized she could see clearly through both eyes. “It’s, gone.” She flipped her hand back and forth in front of her face.
 
“Your hand was fully repaired, as was your eye socket. That was a touchy bit.” She chuckled. “How are you feeling?” Corazon leaned over the commander, adjusting the sheet around Conner’s exposed skin.
 
“I don’t, I’m not, wait. The beast. I had it but the craft, wait, what?” Conner took another deep breath.
 
“You took one hell of a beating, but you’re healing nicely,” Corazon spoke softly.
 
“I had one. Before the crash. I had one.”
 
“Your confusion will abate. Your mission was successful. The beast. Well, he is in the genesis module.”
 
“He? So it was male. I wasn’t sure.”
 
“Yes, Commander. He is male. Would you like to see? I’ll get a chair.”
 
Minutes later, Carlyle gazed intently at the inert creature before her. “What, uh, who, is this?”
 
“This, Conner, is who we’ve been waiting for. A viable male. His healing has been impressive and is almost complete. Just a few residual tissues, thanks to your bravery. Go ahead, you can touch him.”
 
The male’s once reptilian flesh was now soft and supple beneath her fingers. A crown of dark curls framed his face, and his clawless hands were clasped against his chest, which rose and fell with each breath.
 
Carlyle’s vision blurred. He was exquisitely formed. Something deep within her stirred, a fluttering life independent of her own made its presence known, and a warmth she’d never felt spread through her body. “A viable male?” Her voice was a whisper.
 
Corazon bent down beside her patient, her hand lightly brushing the commander’s stomach. “Yes, Carlyle. The genesis protocol has commenced.”