June 7, 2019
“You’re an extraterrestrial who’s been dropped into the human body you now inhabit. Wiggle around a little bit. Flex and stretch. Looking at your body from the POV of an outsider, compose a letter to your alien family back home telling them how you’re getting along in this new ‘suit.’”
My loving Zee-Dwop,
The experiment was a success. I’ve made it, and the body feels so . . . alien.
I haven’t learned much yet. I’ve just woken up days ago. My sincerest apologies for waiting a touch to write. Living in this body, I can’t quite describe it.
It’s nothing at all like having our tentacles. The arms and legs feel so stiff due to the skeletal structure. They don’t even move of their own accord or spare one thought! How dull it is already to be human.
The centralized mind is boggling. For thoughts to come from one place! It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced. The effort needed to move the fingers alone to type this message. Ah, my sweet blorp, to have fingers. To grasp things, to have to grasp things. And to have to move the fingers with the mind!
Moving with this body does lack Octine grace, but it comes with a certain satisfaction. The movements are more distinct, more obvious to the eyes.
And o! the eyes. You wouldn’t believe such colors existed. Enough to shade every letter of this correspondence with differing hues! As soon as the technicolor conversion techniques are enhanced, I’ll send you images. Unfortunately, you’ll have to visit the laboratory and use the tentacle helmets to short shift your consciousness to me, but, my Bleep, you’ll adore them.
Anyway, I’ve got to Scurp. Or run, as my fellow humans say—though I haven’t come close to even walking yet. There’s so much to learn!
Eagerly awaiting your response,