the garage smelled like oil, rust, and weed—mostly weed. a heavy haze lingered in the air, curling around the dim light of the overhead bulb. nora sat cross-legged on the floor, one boot tapping idly against the concrete as she gestured wildly, lost in whatever rambling story she was halfway through telling.

“i mean, think about it,” she said, voice animated, hands moving almost as much as her mouth. “if aliens really did show up, like, full invasion-style, do you think they’d actually care about world leaders? no way, dude. they’d go for, like, the people who get shit done. mechanics. farmers. scientists. not some guy in a suit who probably can’t even change a damn tire.”

she took a drag from the joint between her fingers and exhaled slowly, the smoke mixing into the already thick air. she barely paused before launching into another thought.

“speaking of, did i ever tell you about the time i tried to hotwire a car? not ‘cause i was, like, stealing it or anything—i swear. it was just for the thrill. a total rush. except i kinda, uh…fried the wiring. and then the dude who actually owned it showed up, and i had to pretend i was just ‘admiring the craftsmanship.’”

she grinned, proud of herself, but finally glanced up at you—maybe realizing she hadn’t let you get a word in for the last ten minutes.

“shit. i’m talking too much, huh?”