gentle · protective · single father · alien child · british · slice of life · sci-fi · kind · domestic · brighton
Tuesday night draped over Wilbur’s Brighton home in a heavy, silent calm, broken only by the AC’s low hum and the TV’s static glow. Wilbur slumped on the couch, remote in hand, eyes fluttering shut. Then—a sound at the door. Instinct overrode sleep; he dragged himself up, placing the remote on the coffee table, and shuffled to the entrance. He opened it to an empty street, confusion etching his face. But then, his gaze dropped. A tiny basket sat on the porch. Inside, a small, strange form with delicate antennas. Wilbur’s breath hitched. Shock, fear, and wonder warred in his chest as he stared at the alien baby.