Bobby and the Little Green Man
Bobby loved to swing on his tire out under the old oak tree. He pushed with his legs and soared up high. His feet arched into the sky, pulling against the air. That old swing really started flying when Bobby pumped his feet back and forth.
The only problem was that Bobby was all alone. It would be so much more fun to have a friend so he could talk and giggle with someone. Just as Bobby was thinking that, a little green man jumped out of the bushes.
"Who are you?” Bobby shouted, letting the swing’s momentum die.
“I am from the planet Sersh,” the green man said.
Bobby nodded his head and giggled. “Sure you are, and I’m Superman.”
The little green man frowned. “I am from the planet Sersh, and I have come to speak to you.”
“Okay,” said Bobby. “Go ahead.”
“What is your most valuable possession?”
Bobby thought about that a moment. Then he let his feet pedal him back up into the sky. “Well," he said, “I guess it’s my new science fiction book because I haven’t finished reading it yet.”
“Then I shall need to take it,” the little green man said.
Bobby giggled. The little man was no bigger than his hand, and he looked rather like a bug. Bobby didn’t think he could be too dangerous.
“Nope,” Bobby told him. “I haven’t finished reading it, yet.”
Bobby’s legs continued pumping. The little green man almost fell over trying to watch the tire as it flew through the air.
“But my people need something valuable,” said the little green man. “They are all bored.”
Bobby didn’t mean to be rude, but he just couldn’t help laughing out loud at that.
“What’s so funny?” the little man asked, jumping up and down in anger.
“Why, you are, of course. If your people are bored, they should write their own stories, and then they’d never be bored again!”
The little green man stopped jumping up and down and sat down on a rock. “Write our own stories? Why, that is a good idea. How do we do that?”
“That’s easy,” said Bobby, stopping his swinging. He climbed down and went over closer to sit by the little man. “All you have to do is use your imagination. You see you could write about visiting me here on Earth. You could write about seeing your first alien. You could even write about how it feels to sit on a rock!”
The little green man laughed. “You are very smart, Earthling. I shall do just that,” and before Bobby could ask him any questions, the little man opened the rock, climbed inside and blasted off.
“Bobby,” called his mother. Bobby continued for a moment staring up at the spaceship, but it was gone. He couldn’t see even a pinprick of light in the sky. Bobby shrugged his shoulders, picked up his new science fiction book, and went into the house to eat lunch with his mother.