Extra-terrestial Contact
Where there is a light there is life
"It's time. It's time to tell them how it is."
"Yes sir, I'm doing it now," I said to the elder as I set to work.
"Make sure you tell them everything. They have to know."
"Yes sir, I agree. I'm on it."
"Right then, I'll leave it in your capable hands. Use your imagination Marcus."
And with that, the elder calmly turned and silently ghosted out of the small back room that served as a makeshift office. I sat back in my recliner, put my hands together and rested them across my chest. I sat a short while thinking, where do I even begin?
My father used to tell me things that made me laugh. Things like " Never trust a fart." And he had a slight Irish accent and intonation which intrigued me. When he counted to three he would pronounce "One, two, tree...." His mispronunciation of the number three was amusing and embarrassing at one and the same time.
He also used to tell me very wise things too, a lot of which, due to my youth and innocence, was lost on me at the time. Like all kids, I thought he knew very little of the world, very little of my world. I now realise, in some respects a little too late in life, that my father knew things that even now I can only imagine.
