Author: Thomas Mills
Some say it was bound to happen. But people no longer talk about it. After years of governmental and military alien cover-ups, who could be shocked at all? We saw something, that’s for sure. But what?
Millions of flying saucers just started appearing, small and black, the center sections of each craft encircled by soundless, spinning disks, the only visible means of propulsion. Observers offered similar descriptions… “dark saucers, rising silently from deep bodies of water”…all over the earth. Self-levitating disks creating beautiful, fine wisps of opalescent mist and spirals of water radiating downward as each craft emerged from unexplored depths.
News of “the situation” bombarded us from every media source. We watched in riveted fascination, mouths agape, as alien technology blatantly barrel-rolled into our awareness. We watched in amazement and delight, the playfulness reflected in soaring gyrations and acrobatic intermingling of the saucers. We gasped in awe as collisions were adroitly avoided, like clouds of bats or schooling fish. Black swirling shapes curved around cumulus clouds and raced over the dappled green leaves of our global forests. Video monitors repeated endless loops of the enigmatic alien saucers, from extreme close-ups to hazy, out-of-focus swarms of dark hovering objects. Smartphones captured the event. Owners scrambled to share the “penultimate moment” over the Internet. But still the questions linger, why, how, who? Non-stop, staccato questions with no plausible answers. Scientists exhibited both stupor and incipient disbelief.
As quickly as the alien machines emerged, they disappeared, spinning beneath the waves leaving no trace, no answers. We can never again look upon our oceans, inland seas, deepest lakes and fjords without wondering if and when they might return. They’re gone and we’ve no technology that can prove their continuing existence. It’s as if they were never here. But we know better.
As I sit, listening to the oscillating rise and fall of summer’s newly emergent Cicada, I wonder if the aliens will return much like these ancient insects? Rhythmic pulses from countless Cicadas increase, deepening my consternation, as I wonder how these aliens came to be here, pondering their intent with growing concern about what they might do next. We now know…alien life forms do exist, right here on Earth. Have they been here all along? With that knowledge what will we do differently? How does this change things? Do we cling to some form of contrived normalcy? How do we live, aware that everything is different? It’s as if the earth has shifted beneath our feet, continuously thrusting us left and right, catapulting everyone toward the incontrovertible conclusion that we are not alone.
Primal fear kept us on edge, capable of fighting or fleeing to survive. But a lesser human instinct was triggered by the mass emergence. We froze, as a result of what we saw. Not knowing what comes next, we’re aimlessly adrift in time, a repeating loop of remembrance…from before we knew of them, to the day they emerged, and subsequently, through an uncertain time in which we must move forward without certainties.
So what was “the situation” all about? A cosmic slap of comeuppance? A subtle sign disparaging our simple-minded conceits? Was it a random event that will not occur for another 200,000 years? We now possess knowledge of a certainty, of which we had no prior awareness nor advance warning. Nor will we necessarily acquire additional certainties now…or ever.
We can only wait, wonder and worry. Could it be possible that our biological parents came calling? What do you think? You’ve been strangely silent.