WRITER'S BLOCKADE

When an extraterrestrial melody invaded the minds of the townspeople of Proxima III, it was a welcome addition to their rather mundane routine of plucking queloz fruits and churning them into various pastes, jellies, and salves. But what started as a soundtrack to brighten their days, turned into a nightmare of sleepless nights and the unbearable lack of peace and quiet. A local chemist theorized that the sound might be a signal of some kind, and with the help of a series of tuning forks, was able to translate it. What was uncovered was not as jolly as the harmonies that bounced between the amateur tools, it was a distress signal. Without the proper equipment, it would take a miracle to return the message. Assembling the people of Proxima III took months; the creation of a synthesizer the size of a small moon took years; teaching everyone to learn how to play in sequence took decades. After 100 years, and many advances in technology, Proxima III finally returned the message. Not even five minutes passed before a lone space frigate emerged in their orbit waving a flag of peace. Proxima III welcomed their new reptilian neighbors with pride, eventually gifting them Hundreds & Thousands to commemorate their historic arrival.