I have been writing fiction again. I felt compelled to share this 500 word story. Enjoy.

I wake to find myself surrounded by aliens. I first check that I am not dreaming by pinching myself, as I often experience strange dreams (I really need to stop eating cheese before bed) I then wipe the dust from my eyes and look around to ascertain that I am still in my bed.

I am.

My eyes adjust to the darkness, and it is dark. No sunshine is leaking yet through my curtains. Am I still in my bedroom?

I make out the various shapes and shelving units in my room.

I am.

They can’t have kidnapped my whole house, could they? So, I am still on Earth. I am in no dream and in no alien spaceship. The aliens have come to me. Why? And for what purpose?

My blanket is half caught underneath my elbow, the other end is curled onto the floor; my duvet soft and squidgy underneath my hands. I ball them up and feel somewhat comforted by the familiarity. I sweep hair off my face and look at the … people gathered around my bed.

Their form is somewhat human, but not. They are fluid. Their form seeming to shift in front of me. As if made from some kind of film that is being held in front of my eyes, distorting their image. They have tentacles, rather than arms and they don’t appear to have legs or feet, their form just fills out downwards and stops above the ground.

They have no neck, or shoulders. Their heads are oblong, with dome shaped helmets. Some of the aliens hold these in front of them, and others have not taken theirs off. Something to do with their adaptability to Earth’s air? Those I can see have ears. Enormous ears that are a lavender purple and fold over, and droop across their face. There are numerous eyes, twitching and blinking and solemnly staring … at me. I try to initiate conversation.

‘Hello’ I squeak. I clear my throat.

‘Hello’ the aliens all repeat my greeting, all of them – a dozen or so in total, like a chorus. Their voice is deep and bold. I am startled by their synchronicity. And that there is no individuality to their voices. They are uniform. Or are they telepathic? Do they share from the same pool of thoughts and intuit when they will each speak?

‘Why are you … here … in my house?’

One of the alien’s steps forward. I tense and wildly think do I have a weapon to arm myself with, if need be.

‘We are lost.’

Again, they speak as one.

‘Lost?’

‘We are lost’

‘And where are you lost from?’

‘We are lost’

Lost, and I do not think they understand English. They can speak English. Maybe ‘we are lost’ is one of the phrases in the speaking to Homo Sapiens handbook.

There is only one thing for me to say, and it is the oldest cliché in my arsenal, ‘take me to your leader.’