“Tell us one of your planet tales,” requested a member of the younger set, as the Storyteller started his work period at the domed Entertainment Center.

    “Yes, please!” agreed another.

    “Very well. Let’s start with a planet far away.”  He alighted, “From afar, it looks like a blue and white sphere of glass.”  More floated in and joined the group of listeners.  “As you get closer, you can see green vegetation and deep blue seas.”

    “Also on this planet,” he continued his tale, drawing more of a crowd to his space,  “they have darkness to the point that one can’t see anything before them.”

    “You’re not going to tell those disgusting stories about beings on other planets again, are you?” asked an elder who visited the Entertainment Center frequently.  “Because, if you are, I will inform the authorities that you are violation their ruling.”

    “Okay,” the Storyteller agreed.  He started to leave his space at the center, but the crowd followed him.

    “Please tell us more!” they begged, as they followed him into the park and across the purple grass.

    “Why do you want to hear more?” he asked.  “You know that I shouldn’t.”
   
    “The ruling is for those who are so arrogant, that they think we are the only intelligent life,” remarked an older individual.

    “From the other story-tellers, we hear the same old stories.  Your stories inspire pictures in our minds of strange and wonderful things.”

    “Your stories are exciting, because they are frightening and what some call disgusting.  At least your stories are different and that’s what we like.”  The group was speaking out.

    “Please continue.  Tell us more about this darkness,” one of these followers requested.

    The Storyteller pondered over this for a few moments and then continued.  “Every rotation, their single sun gives them light and darkness for several villions.”

    “I can’t imagine a place without three suns,” one listener stted as he looked out over the green sky and purple vegetation, then continued, “wow, blue sky.”

    “I’ve never seen anything that was without some kind of sunlight,” another said turning blue with fear.

    The Storyteller went on, his purplish skin growing brighter with excitement.  “They use inventions of all types as a simulated sun to endure their dark period.”

    “You were told not to tell your terrible stories, or you would be erased down to your last division,” said one elder who joined the floating group.

    “What else does this species do?” one of the younger set asked not even hearing the warning.

    The Storyteller continued. He was so deep in his story world that he couldn’t stop.

    “The intelligent species on this planet are really odd looking.  They balance and move on two pillars of flesh.  Connected to these two pillars is a shape of our body’s.  Allthis body shpe does is process the nutrients they consume.”

    After allowing a small laps of time, he continued.  “Connected to the body shape on both sides are long pillars joined by tiny pillars that can hold and carry things.  Centered on top is a planet shape of flesh holding their sense of sight, smell and sound.  There is a hole in the lower middle for taking in nourishment and making communication sounds.”

    “Does this species get their nourishment from the air like we do?” asked on of those who always wanted to here more.

    “This planet has many other non-sentient life forms.  Some of these are raised so that the intelligent species can burn it’s flesh over an imitation sun and use it as nourishment.  They also have many types of vegetation that they grow and consume as nourishment.”

    “Oh, how disgusting.  Consume flesh!” one of the listeners protested.  “Now I know why the council say your stories are not very good or socially acceptable.  I wish to hear no more of them.”

    “If you don’t like them,” one of the younger set jabbed the others mind to cause a sharp little pain, “then leave.”

    “They do not divide in half as we do.  They have two types.  One of these types carry a very small one of their species inside them until it can live outside.  Then it takes several kims to be on it’s own.

    “Oh my.  How terrible.  But go on, tell us more.”
   
    “They communicate differently and learn differently.  They do not carry on the knowledge of the past.  They must go to a room when they are young and from a storyteller, they learn.  They listen to the different pitches of sounds, groans, smacks, and hisses that make up their communication.”

    “They have to use their eyes to help them understand examples of the different subjects.  They spend about one quarter of their lives in those rooms.  Then they go out in their society and pick a member of the other type to live with in the same habitation.  In this way the cycle of life continues.”

    “We will stand for no more of this nonsense,”  said an official who had just arrived.  “You are to come with me for trial.  We will see if you are to be erased down to your last division for the corruption of other minds.”
   
    The official gripped the Storyteller’s mind like handcuffs.  “Now come along,” the official said pulling him away from the crowd.

    “Yes sir,” the Storyteller said.  “They are only stories I tell, just stories.”