Not Alone

word count: 687



         I saw it from a distance; a floating disk just over the crest of Mt. Tom. It hovered like a balloon on its last particles of helium. A myriad of colors marked it for me. The hues were none that I have ever seen; perhaps that is what drew my attention to it. The lights penetrated the blackness that was a typical Southampton night. The rural town still fought against the creeping night life of the surrounding cities and civilization seemed a light year away from the unlit, dirt road I took my midnight walks on.

         I stopped on the seldom used train track and stared at the object. My immediate thoughts were not of UFOs and visitors from space. The Air Force base lay beyond the mountain, so it was not uncommon for aerial craft to be active in the area. My reveries were broken when the joint in my hand burned my index finger. I hadn't realized how long I was standing there until that moment. I cursed and shook the injured hand then returned my gaze to the lighted disk. That's when I noticed it was moving.

         The craft didn't speed through the air like a jet or glide like an ultralite, it just crept. I guess it had been moving the whole time, but its progress was hard to mark because it drifted straight towards my position. I was transfixed, rooted to the spot as it crawled across the starry sky, eating the miles like a snake swallowing prey.

         I can't say for sure how long I waited for it (yes, I was waiting for it), but it eventually reached me. I was terrified, but curiosity won the battle for dominance over me. A wise person would have run, but I've never been called a genius, so maybe that's why I stayed there looking up.

         The airship was not a disk as I first suspected. It was oblong like a cigar, but Cuba never exported something with colors like this one. The lights on the bottom flickered on and off, creating a strobe effect. Reddish, brownish, greenish, yellowish, the visual emmissions were like these colors, but not in shades ever seen on this planet. I called them lights before, but now I could see that they were something else entirely. The glow did not illumintate, but pulsed like a heart. As the ship caressed the air above me, I could sense I was being watched and the colors were the voyeurs. It stopped directly over my head.

         A faint aroma tickled my nostrils. It was sweet like melons, with a tinge of acidity that touched my tastebuds and made my mouth water. I could feel no air or heat to explain how the ship just hovered. A dull hum, almost too subtle to notice with my human ears, emanated around me. The vibrations were not unpleasant and I believe I may have actually smiled at the sensation despite my fear.

         I reached my arms upward in a gesture meant to show peaceful intentions. I knew this was not of Earth and I wanted to be an emmissary of peace. Anything with this kind of technology surely would be able to destroy us with little effort. I'm not sure if these were lucid thoughts, however. The euphoria of the experience combined with the pot may have given me an innappropriate sense of grandeur.

         The colors became brighter and I was forced to shield my eyes with my hands less I go blind. A deep rumble shook the ground and I thought an earthquake was going to ruin my encounter. I dared a peek through fingers and saw a streak of brightness cascading across the sky.

         Crickets, frogs, and other normal sounds of nocturnal wildlife buzzed in my ears. I was alone once again on the road. I can't explain why, but I still feel a loss inside me that started at that moment. I hope to one day meet the beings that had taken such an interest in me. I am not sure if the psychiatrists will grant them a pass to visit, though.