The Outsider
Eric bonholtzer
Zan’s stomach churned and knotted, his fingers on the door. When it opened, there would be a new beginning. No more being an outcast. No more ridicule. He had had enough of that to last a lifetime. The heavy metal door represented an escape, a chance at a new life. What will they think? He wondered. Will they torment me too? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think so. These were different people, an entirely different situation. No more taunting. Nor more lost lunch money or being an outsider. When you are young things like that still seem significant.
I’ll always be an outsider, he thought, his fingers making a hasty retreat. Indecision gripped him. No, you didn’t come all this way just to give up now. And how far he had come, he reflected. Seems like a trillion miles. His long index digit wrapped the door handle. This is a breakthrough, Zan thought to himself. The door to the space shuttle door opened and Zan stepped out, feeling the reassuring texture of the solid Earth beneath his claws.
“A new beginning,” he muttered, with a slim smile, the setting sun glinting off his pale green skin, “A new beginning.” He trudged forward, his tail trailing behind with high expectations.
