Lady Luck.

Hello my friend. I hope you are doing good, and living your best life.

This story is called Lady Luck, because she’s the only lady we need in certain circumstances to get us through unscathed.

To quote the GOAT Eminem. “You only get one shot, one opportunity.” Which you will find out later on this story, how relevant that quote is, so without further ado let’s get into this one, get comfortable and enjoy reading.

We touch down in the secluded town that’s called Forestberg.

Population of around four thousand, just an estimate of course, I haven’t counted everybody.

The reason why the town was named Forestberg, is because it’s like a big bobbing iceberg, but instead of miles of ocean surrounding it, it’s surrounded by a dense forest, that wraps around the whole town.

With only a main road that runs through the centre of the town, meaning there’s only two ways in, and out of this town, although there are some roads that branch off either side of the the main road, leading to the different neighbourhoods.

I’m sure you know how roads, and neighbourhoods work, so I won’t insult your intelligence.

The story begins, my friend.

Amongst the buzz of chatter between customers, and cashiers, a steady stream of different grocery products are being scanned at 3 separate checkouts, inside the supermarket that’s called Bargains.

*Beep.* *Beep.* *Beep.*

Claire is the general manager of Bargains.

But because of a staff illness, Claire is currently stacking an empty shelf with tins of different contents, grabbing ahold of a cardboard tray of 12 branded cans of beans, that’s stacked on top of other tinned products within a cage.

She turns to neatly place on the empty shelf, repeating until the shelf is full of beans.

The different smells that make up a full English breakfast, and coffee coming from the café, that’s located in the corner of the supermarket is enough to make anyone hungry, her belly growls almost telling her to go, and get herself a plate along with a cup, even though she had breakfast this morning, although it wasn’t a fry up.

Claire is a smartly dressed woman, wearing a nicely ironed white shirt, her name badge, and role within the store is visibly pinned on her shirt, neat black trousers, and shiny black shoes, her large eyes are green like broccoli, and her hair is a dusty blonde, at the moment it is tied up into a ponytail, so the strands of her hair don’t get in her face, but when let down it drapes halfway down her back.

She is naturally beauty, with a small scar on her forehead, which she got when her, and her older brother were younger, kids will be kids, her parents weren’t happy spending time down the hospital, but accidents happen.

Claire has finished unloading the trays of beans onto the shelf.

An older lady is wearing a glum expression, like it’s going out of fashion, pushing a shallow trolley, that’s loaded with a honeydew melon, watermelon, a punnet of mixed grapes, and a bunch of colourful flowers, while she’s walking up to where Claire is working.

The older lady grabs a can of beans from the shelf.

Claire warmly smiles at the glum looking older lady. “Morning Mary love, how are you doing?”

“Not doing good Claire, Robby is still in the hospital, darling.”

Claire comforts Mary by rubbing her upper arm. “Oh that’s not good sweetie, I really hope he gets better soon.”

“You and me both dear.”

The ladies carry on talking, while Claire carries on stacking the shelf with some more tins, these ones are alphabetti spaghetti, you know it would be a good dinner if you see them on the kitchen counter as a kid.

Somewhere else in the town of Forestberg.

A man within a house is sitting at a dark brown dining room table.

His name is Chris, he is the husband of Claire.

His silver laptop is in front of him. Chris picks up a mug with tea inside, looks nice, not too strong or too weak, he’s having a drink of it.

He goes back to working at the laptop.

Chris is wearing a navy blue shirt, with the top button undone, revealing his hairy chest, black trousers and black socks peaking out from his fluffy brown slippers, he is wearing a nice silver watch on his right wrist, blue eyes and short styled light brown hair, he has stubble around his chin and cheeks, looks like he could do with a shave.

Some time later.

Chris is outside in his back garden, it’s a nice sunny day, hearing a few birds squawking in the distance, he puts an unlit cigarette up to his lips, lighting it with a red lighter, seeing the flame reflecting off both of his iris’s, and pupils.

He looks over towards the fence, which separates his house from his neighbour, but it’s not a big fence, maybe three foot in height.

Smoke exits through the parted lips of Chris, as he hears the back door of his neighbour shutting.

The peace, and quiet of Chris is broken by Tim, his neighbour coming up to the fence for a chat.

Now one thing you should know is, that Tim is in his mid thirties, and a big conspiracy person, wearing a black t’shirt, that has a winking-green alien doing the peace sign in the middle of the t’shirt.

Chris sighs. “How’s it going Tim?”

Tim looks over both of his shoulders in paranoid glances, when he’s sure there no one listening in, he nods at Chris, as he holds up a see through pot with some green substance within.

“This is what I found yesterday in the forest, this is definitely alien goo, or their blood.”

Like a waterfall but instead of water, it’s smoke that gushes out of the nostrils of Chris. “Looks strange mate, have you reported it to the authorities?”

Tim shakes his head violently in a no gesture. “They already think I am some weird nut job, but I know the creatures from out of this world are real, now this is proof that they live among us.”

Chris takes the last couple of drags, then proceeds to stub out his cigarette. “I don’t know what it could be, but I would definitely hand it in, and make sure you don’t get it on you. I’m sure you don’t want to turn into one of them.”

“It looked like there had been a disturbance where I found it, I can show you, like a fight, or the alien was dragging something, or someone.”

Chris puts the stubbed out cigarette into an ashtray that’s on the garden table. “Maybe another time, I am very busy with work.”

Tim puts his thumb up, as Chris walks back into his home to finish his work on his laptop.