To reply, post publically or e-mail the author at <wingcat@pacbell.net>
Enjoy!

The FFML Refugee List

The appointed day.  The appointed hour.  Yes, indeed, there was the
scene, just as his sensei has described it: bulldozer, man lying in
mud, house, all in a row.  He spoke not a word of their language, but
he did not need to.  His sensei's works had been translated to his own
tongue, and right now, only action was required.

Wordlessly, he marched up to the scene, not understanding the various
questions they tossed at him, but hearing the confused tone in their
voices.  He grunted a bit as he picked up the house-threatening
vehicle, pausing only long enough to let its operator realize his
intent and leap to safety, then hurled it into the sky...and into the
waiting demolition space fleet, if the observatory he had "borrowed"
two nights ago had been correct as to the exact velocity and angle
needed for an intercept.  Not that worrying would do much good: by the
end of the day, he would know whether or not he had spared the Earth
from being cleared to make way for an interstellar bypass; if it was,
he was pretty certain this house would also be spared long enough for
its owner to make the proper complaints.

His task done, he walked around one corner of the house, felt along his
bandanas, and pushed a well-worn button on a device hidden underneath.
He was elsewhere by the time the contractor, furious at being
interrupted, marched up to have words with the intruder.  Fortunately,
the device was equipped with peril sensors similar to those more
famously deployed in sunglasses, and thus decided against hitchiking on
the only spaceships in range, instead choosing to hitchike on the winds
as it always had...even though this did leave its owner wondering where
the hell he was.

Feeling a bit of mud from the tractor on his hands, he took off a
bandada and wiped the dirt off.  For not the first time, he wondered if
it truly had been worth it to exchange knowledge of his position for
knowledge of his bandanas' relative position, and whether the
translator had meant "towel" instead of "bandana".  Then again, keeping
track of 42 of them was no mean feat.  He soon shook that wonder off,
instead pondering what he was certain must have been the question about
life, the universe, and everything that was so important: would he ever
win Akane's love?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
                     desaix@sysnet.net
Sir Desaix, member # 116 of the Knights of the True Fiancee           
              anime  fanfics available at 
  http://www.geocities.com/zednik.geo/fanfics.htm

	     .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
             | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
             | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
             |     Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject     |
             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'