In the air above the sofa a portal opens into a golden vessel streaming metallic red and green lights. Tiny engineers emerge and attend to me. I lie inert watching them pass under and around my body. To what end? I wonder, but their busy countenances are inscrutable. The feeling is neutral: I am happy to let the space gnomes do their job, but the experience is too alien in character to carry any emotional significance. After the feeling has faded the nonsense phrase left lingering is 'Aztec Cheese Moon'.
One night there were strange lights in the sky that I explained away as 'Chinese lanterns' --but they hung in formation above the town, then one by one shot straight up into the starless night. Another man was watching them too, further down the road by the church, but I was afraid to approach him, perhaps in case he confirmed the sighting. I find myself vaguely hoping that the vision, in connection with those 'Chinese Lanterns', proves the existence of extra-terrestrial life. However, the size of the universe makes such a proof unnecessary. Anyway, what's to say aliens have to be from outer space?
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