They had come at night, that one time.
It was a still night; not a breath of wind, yet there had been a zephyr-like sound, a series of popping noises, and then they were simply there.
Naturally, I’d been a little unnerved at first. Although they looked just like anyone else, and spoke fluent English with just the merest hint of an unplaceable accent, it was the way they moved that gave them away.
We sat and we talked for hours. They told wonderful tales of the places they’d been and the marvelous things they’d seen on their travels. In return, I told them about my life, and answered their many questions as best I could. You might think me foolish, but at the time it hadn’t occurred to me to keep my cards close to my chest. I don’t believe that anyone who comes all that way would do so with evil intent.
In the morning they were simply gone. Like perfect campers, they’d left no trace behind to show they’d ever been here at all.
Night after night I sit outside, looking up at the sky and wondering if they’ll ever be back. I think perhaps not.
Word count: 199
With thanks to Graymand for his list of free images websites.