I Vacuum

I Vacuum
By Jeffrey Hite

Every night I vacuum the rug. Every morning I wake up and there are foot prints on my rug.
I vacuum.
Foot prints.
I vacuum.
Foot prints.
Little tiny foot prints!
Finally a bought a night vision, inferred camera. I caught the little beasts making foot prints all over my rug. They were little elves or gnomes or something. I also caught them fixing the broken wires on my stereo, and the loose screws in the furniture. They did everything, everything that is but wipe their feet before they came in the house. So I vacuum and they leave footprints.

Sand

Bob watched the sand blow across the glass of his tiny shelter. Honestly it was only slightly larger than an environmental suit, and he was feeling more than a little claustrophobic. Three days had pasted since the ship had left him here. Two hours until the were due back. The seconds ticked by slowly. He needed them back soon because if he had to wait too much longer in the suit he would go crazy. If that happened he might be temped to crack the seal, run down the beach and play in the water with the bikini clad women.