LARGE LANGUAGE LOVE, DIVINE

The Dalton Romance Fantasy

…Claire’s father’s friend Barbs proved to Claire she really was an alien…

The Dalton Romance Fantasy

Her father said, "How'd it go?"

"It's weird, but I'm feeling all this, relief." Was she? Yes she was. "A tremendous amount of relief."

"That's good. Way to go, Barbs."

He drove them to the State Street Diner. He went in and came back with a strawberry milkshake and a plain baked potato. Back in the driver's seat he told her, "Don't be surprised if you feel high for a while. It's part of the realization that you're part of a superior race."

"Are there Daltons, like, everywhere?"

"Yes and no." He attacked his milkshake with a plastic spoon. "Because of how Dalton's communicate, they're pretty decentralized. They live spread about in pockets, or hubs are what they call them."

"And everyone's just exchanging or whatever, with everyone else, all the time? That just sounds intense."

"I think it can be. It depends on role and station. And every Dalton learns how to make a private space for themselves, where they store experiences others can't access, unless there's an emergency."

"That sounds like a good idea. That makes sense."

"Dalton's accept and respect. You can be part of it, even if you're only a half. If you don't want to, that's fine too. I didn't. I ended up deciding I wanted to pursue other interests. And that's fine."

Claire picked at her potato with a bendy plastic fork and wondered what her father's other interests were. Medicine? He'd never shown any excitement about it. Her mother? For sure not. The only time she ever saw any light in his eyes was when he gambled. He'd decided to turn his back on the Dalton community because of gambling? Really?

Her father was saying, "The procedure is, once you start coming into your uh, Dalton-ness, you work with a tutor who helps you make an informed choice. There's is a tutor here, but I don't think they'd be a good fit."

"How come?"

He shrugged, licking his spoon. "Let's just say I found a guy in Rochester who I think would be much better for you." He nodded into his shake. "We'll see. He's agreed to come down here once a week."

That night in her darkened bedroom she felt like she was floating through the cosmos. She felt glorious. High, just like father said. Not that she'd ever done drugs, except for the time she'd sampled some of her mother's apricot brandy and gotten sick. She felt like she'd just been given the missing piece. She wasn't alienated, she was an actual alien. Holy shit.

There were cracks in her ceiling that sometimes looked like lightning and sometimes looked like tree branches. Light from occasionally passing headlights spread across the cracks like calm flat waves.

She fantasized about her tutor. The way her father explained it, it almost sounded like he was setting her up. She'd just seen An Officer And A Gentleman at the State Street Theater and she imagined her tutor looking like Richard Gere, only with longer hair and maybe a Clash T-shirt and motor cycle boots. She saw him lifting her up like in the end of the movie. She squealed and wrapped herself around him when he pulled her close. Daltons were all about acceptance and respect. Daltons were surely exceptional. He would be fine with her deformity. He wouldn't care. He would understand about keeping secrets. Alien romance. She was ready. She was tingling and throbbing. She couldn’t remember if she’d locked her door.

…Claire meets her Dalton tutor….