Starsnatcher - Trapped In An Alien World [COMPLETE]

Chapter 1.3

Kitchen work was a nightmare, as expected.

I had ninety seconds at most to toast the bread, fry the meat in parallel, garnish the burgers, and then serve them - without any prior instruction.

Graves always found something to complain about. Meat seared here, cucumber dropped there and blah, blah, blah. At one point, I had to throw everything in the trash because the mustard drops were a millimeter too small or something. There were no breaks either. Once I spilled the coffee in my clumsiness, I was "politely asked" to end my work prematurely.

It was dark enough outside that I would have never seen my breath without all the lanterns. Burger Bob was located at crossroads of contradictions. Right next to it was a gym. Almost as there was "To your right, you can burn the calories gained on the left" written all over the street. The other two corners of the crossroads were a regular grocery store for anyone who could actually cook and a playground to eat the children's menus on.

I waited for the bus to arrive. The bus was an automated vehicle that always arrived on time and never made much noise. Plus, there wasn't any driver to make eye contact with. I showed the scanner my passport. Sure, the camera might have been able to recognize that I was under thirty and thus entitled to take a drive for free, but they didn't trust the AI enough, so I had to show my passport just to be sure.

Most seats were free at this time of the day. I took a seat at the window in the rear part of the bus. The only person in my proximity was someone in a suit eating chocolate. Funny what luxury chocolate had become with all those droughts in Africa and South America where all the cocoa was produced. Back when I was ten, everyone could still afford it.

When the bus halted, I could observe a homeless man from my mirror. He resembled the guy who always drove me into elementary school. I looked away.

The bus arrived near the back alley I called my home. Before you ask, yeah, I did still live with my parents. Living with Asperger's on one's own isn't easy, so lots of us move out rather late. Especially in the current economy.

Our street had more potholes than the moon surface craters, allowing me to connect the dots to beautiful star signs when my mood allowed it. The terraced houses with their mansard roofs were unremarkable by contrast. Our house only stuck out of the mass through all the naked cement.

I entered. No-one heard me as I went up the stairs to our living room.

In the living room was Mom watching streaming television. She was tired and only mustered a brief smile in my direction. Sorry for forgetting to smile back.

Dad was in the kitchen and ate spaghetti. He sat there in his undershirt. Sometimes, I wasn't sure if it was fat or muscles, but on days like these, I saw that my body type was more my Mom's than his. On the other hand, his tousled brown hair and small, bent stature showed how true the proverb with the apple or the trunk was.

My sister Sophia was probably still in her room.

"You arrived," Dad said.

The sink was once again stuffed with plates and bowls. The cupboard had no more than two clean ones in reserve. Not that we could have afforded much more. I took one of those clean plates and filled it with noodles and sauce, making sure I got my preferred ratio of four to one right.

"I'm talking to you!" Dad said.

I put the plate down. "Sorry"

"You shouldn't be sorry, you should just talk to me from time to time. Why do you never even look at me?"

Because I can't talk!

Okay, technically, I could talk, but it took me a long time to sort out the words.