I walked into the cornfield.
The wind was rustling the stocks, as if, they had something to say.
I pushed between them, and there, in the center, was a perfect circle.
I stared into the clouds, and saw a silver saucer ascending.
I blinked, and it was gone.
It started to rain. I ran to the barn, and opened the double doors.
There was my red biplane, all gassed-up, and ready to go. I use it for crop dusting, but now, I had a different purpose in mind.
I wanted to see, if my eyes had deceived me.
I pulled the propeller, and took a swig of whiskey, I kept under the seat.
I put on my yellow raincoat, and pushed the throttle forward.
The buzz cut the humid air like butter, as I taxied onto the dirt road.
I went up.
It’s a feeling of power, when you become weightless, above the ground.
You could crash, and death would greet you, like a best friend, but nobody tells you what to do up there—aside from your radio. I turned that off.
My goggles were collecting raindrops, as I got higher and higher.
There was a strong cross-wind, so that I felt like an autumn leaf with a propeller, flying up, rather than falling down to the ground.
I went into the clouds, where a pie, was cut from the sky, but I didn’t see anything. I circled around, and came back down, into a dive.
The runway was where I left it, and I was getting ready to land, when I heard a voice.
“Commander Johnson—we need you, to lead our squadron.”
Was it just my imagination?
But then I looked to my right and saw the alien craft floating next to me.
The silver saucer was like a traffic cop, pulling me over.
I landed, and instantly felt better, being on the ground.
To be continued…