Connection – Short Story

I’ve never dreamt until I saw him. It was an experience I had not realised I needed. I had to get closer to him, and there he was, leaning against his car, perching a cheek. His denim legs crossed at the ankles, the car bearing his total weight.

I walked past him and clicked my fingers; he didn’t look at me. I glanced again in his direction, but still nothing. This was the third time of walking by him; all his attention was on his phone.

In my mind, we had connected several nights ago, and now he was choosing to ignore me. I’d even worn my unique dress, the one I purchased for six packets of stolen cheese from the local supermarket.

You see, the connection was and is natural. Otherwise, I would not be able to dream. It’s the curious nature of my being; we don’t dream until we connect with another.

This doesn’t mean love; it just means emotion, and this bastard, was the reason I could be stuck on earth. Of course, I had an emotional connection, and it was one of detest. I detested his essence, he was trapping me here, and now he was ignoring me.

You’re probably wondering why I can’t go over and speak to him, why I’m trying to draw his attention to me. It’s complex, and for now, all you need to know is I can’t approach him; he has to come to me.


Getting him to perform such a simple act is proving impossible; I whistled, I dropped something and clicked, still no response. I’ve wondered if he knows. Does he have an idea of the fate that will befall him if he does approach me?

I’ve hidden. I need a new plan. I’ve tried this numerous times in the last several days at various locations. He has never once looked in my direction.

The dress I’m wearing is the same dress I wore on the night of the connection. I thought it might catch his attention if I were to wear it again. It has not worked, no matter which body I use to flaunt the shimmering floral material.

I’ve run out of cheese, and I’ve been banned from the local supermarkets several times. The next time I’m caught shop-lifting in this body, they’ll put me in jail. I have to be on my best behaviour.

On my planet, we do not use cheese as a currency, but I’ve found on earth someone is always willing to steal something I want for a large packet of cheddar. I’ve never needed money on earth, just dairy products.

But, I’m all out.


I come out from my hiding place down the side alley, and he has gone. The car is still there, but he is nowhere to be seen. I know he did not walk past me. I close my eyes and try and sense him, I can feel the warmth his body emits, but he is too far away to hone in on him.

I reach into my carrier bag and pull out a mint; I don’t like them, but I’m hungry, and it was all I could swipe from the newsagents.

If I don’t resolve the connection soon, I’ll be here for another lunar cycle.

Several nights ago, I had been exploring the physical form of humans, and it seems my learning pleased several people. I have completed my mission, and all I want to do is get off this strange planet.

Connections are not about sex; they are more than that; the universe selects the being for you. And nobody refuses the universe.

I’d been warned by my teacher about certain humans; they can be obnoxious and self-absorbed; it became apparent I had connected with this very type. The bastard seemed to know the power emitted. Or was it my own desperation disturbing him.

The weakness is leaking from my body; mints will only give me so much energy. I need to find him; I cannot return until I’ve resolved the bond.

I check his car doors, and they are locked.

I need to change bodies again; this feeble one lacks energy.

Next to the alley where I hid, there was a small cafe with several people eating; I’ll wait for one of them to leave and pass me by. I hope it will be a younger human.


I walk past the cafe and peer in, they are all suitable, and I see my reflection in the window. The dress is stunning but hangs loosely on this older frame, and the hairy chest billows over the neckline. I find it very appealing, yet my quarry does not.

I wait by the entrance, and someone appears, and I drop my carrier bag to the ground. As expected, they pick it up for me, and I grab their hand and pull them sharply towards me. I open my mouth and exude my being into theirs.

It happens so quickly, they do not know what has occurred; even when I vacate them, they believe they have fainted. I don’t harm them, I just use their energy, but he, yes, he is different.

The universe gave him to me for a reason, and I have to fulfil it, or I’ll never return home.

I’m looking at his car again, and with my newfound vigour, I have arrived at a plan.

His car is modern, and I’m assuming his beloved phone is connected to his car’s security. I’ll damage his car and walk past him upon returning; he is bound to ask me what happened.

I scour the alleyway for rock and find a lovely brick; I examine it and look at the buildings and wonder where it came from. I place it in my carrier bag.

I’ve had to leave my dress on the old fella as this frame is too big; I’m now dressed in black trousers, heeled shoes and a pink top. I don’t know how to walk in heels, so I remove them, pop them in my bag and walk barefoot back to the car.

The concrete slabs are rough on my feet, and as I approach the car, I remove the brick from my bag and throw it at the back window, and a big hole appears, the glass shattering into thousands of pieces.

I run back to the alleyway and peer around the corner, and await his return.

The old man has been taken into the cafe, and several of the eaters are nursing him, and he is drinking a cup of tea. I’m upset about the dress’s loss, but now I’m out of his skin; I can return to the supermarkets if my plan does not work to vacate earth.

I see him; he’s running; I start walking in his direction with an air of nonchalance.

He looks at his car and raises his hands to his head in dismay; I giggle too loudly, he finally sees me.

“Excuse me, did you see what happened?”

“Oh dear, is that your car?” I say with innocence. I flick my long hair like a horse.

“Yes, did you see who did this?”

“Not really, I did see someone running, but I’m not sure if it was them.”

“Was it an old man in a dress?”

He did see me, the bastard, and he wouldn’t even pick up my dropped bag. Little does he know, he’ll be making the journey with me.

“Yes, yes it was.”

“Did you see where he went?”

“Be a sweetie, hold my hand to steady me while I put my shoes on. My feet have been so sore.”

“I haven’t got time for this.”

He’s a bastard, full of selfishness.

“Where did he go,” he said, “Which way?”

I leant on his car to put my heeled shoes on, and I saw him wince at the thought of me touching his belongings. He held out his hand to get me off of his car, and this was all I needed.

The universe gave me what I needed.

He and I are now one; we leave in one of your earth hours. He doesn’t know where he is going or that he will die when we reach my homeworld.

We just had a bad connection.

The End

By Lou Farrell

Lou Farrell

Welcome to the mental health blog of Lou Farrell. I am a writer and copywriter who pens all manner of articles relating to mental wellness and mental illness. I write about my own experiences and the knowledge I have gained over the years as someone who has bipolar disorder. I hope you enjoy the website :-)

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