I was sitting on my patio, near dusk. I saw a cigar-shaped light in the sky. It hovered over the river near us, then landed in the strip of lawn behind the townhouses.
They were sexless, faceless, ageless, a sort of aquamarine color, with great three-fingered hands and splayed feet. They came to my knees, but I'm a tall woman.
Their ship was cool and serene. They offered me sharp cheddar cheese, rosemary and olive oil Triscuits and a fine Chardonnay, as if they knew my favorite snack.
They gave me a marvelous mani-pedi, a massage, and trimmed my hair, cooing over the length and the curls. Their magic made all the split ends and grey disappear. It was better than a day at a spa.
When they released me, they embraced my knees with tender affection.
Not really, but hey, I'm BACK.