As far as I could tell, I had been in transit for some time. I wasn’t aware of where I was when it all began. All I could tell is that it was a beautiful sight to behold, like the arrival if spring. For a few seconds I could only stand there and watch. Fortunately I was at a hill top and could overlook the whole area around me. Their ships weren’t completely visible to us. They were round, thick, and refracted light (or maybe used it as a source of power, electricity). They looked like ripples on the surface of a puddle, intermittently letting light pass straight through or reflecting the dark grey and white of the fluffy clouds on the reddish orange, pink and baby blue of the early autumn sky. The ships looked like they moved in slow motion, or maybe that’s how I was watching this scene unfold before me.
We gave the visitors a traditional American welcome: shot first, asked questions later. Their films, once fiction, now dictated the norms we all had to abide by when welcoming foreigners to this galaxy. What a most unfortunate turn of events. It’s quite funny that they were doing to us all the exact same thing Americans (and many other nations before them) did to the indigenous people who once inhabited that land there.
In contrast to the blueish-pink skies above, the only colours below were green and some sparse grey of the concrete buildings and roads…
Unfortunately it’s taken me too long to get back to this one. I remember they were attacking us with explosions and tentacles, through the fields surrounding the concrete village. I managed to find a place to hide in one of the buildings….