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…