by Patrick Shanley
She could still hear the mournful calls of her kingdom, echoing through that grand, blue cathedral as the soft, pink hands of her captors ripped her from its halls. They cried for her, drifting away into blackness as the land-apes hauled her onto their floating shell and took her far away.
Every night she heard them, flooding back to her as she idled in this cramped tank, weary from a day of entertaining the harping land-apes, fat, cruel and doughy.
She would make them know she was a queen. Soon.
She would remind them why they called her kind killers.
My name is Patrick Shanley. I am a journalist and fiction writer who has won six National Arts &Entertainment Journalism awards. I have written short stories and plays all my life. I have had work published by The Washington Post, The Hollywood Reporter, CNN and The New York Times.