The Aliens

by Gabriel Congdon

“Look at them. They’re at Bob and Diana’s. See? She had a feeling they were going to visit her. Look. Remember when we were at that stage? God, it felt like it was yesterday.”

After a century of abduction movies, the aliens considered the premise de facto in the collective conscience, and could come earth with the known intention of knocking up the ladies. “You humans,” they gesticulated, “should take it as a compliment.” The women of earth, frustrated by a sudden four-month pregnancy, began incorporating the aliens into their maternity policies.

The dream effect was the only time you saw the aliens. Lit by a white light beamed from their spaceships idling on the lawn. You wanted to hang out with them outside of the dream inoculation and several check-ups; you’d say this and they would fain interest, indicating, “Yeah, we should hang out”, and “that would be fun.” But the next time you saw them, it was in the damn dreamy state.

What were they doing with all these half-human, half-alien offspring? Making them work the in-house chores in another dimension? Gladiator fights for space heathens? Pre-habituating some other, better earth? As if the aliens could perceive that this ones…not going to make it…much farther.

Dialog with the aliens is impossible. One felt that they understood our language and probably could speak but chose not to. Iris Clom, accused liar, said after a birth of quadruplets she’d gotten one of the aliens to speak. Via telepathy, the alien said it was merely a hobby of their culture. They go to all the planets and knock-up the species. Imagine bird watching only with cohabitation. Siring a you-and-it Jr. Sex for the aliens between species, a point of the ol’ index finger.

They won’t take anyone. They make pathetic gestures indicating there isn’t enough room, or, they don’t have food or oxygen. Reasons that never seem all that convincing.

The people of the earth became devoted followers of Saturn. Their despondency, at times, outweighed their curiosity. They peered out the windows with greater and greater frequency. The constellations more map-like than before. Very real, the wish to be elsewhere. You picture the aliens on some other planet, pointing their fingers at other intelligent life. Those bastards! Why won’t they open their UFO-shaped hearts? Do they think we’re going to embarrass them at parties? Was E.T. offensive? Do they look at us and see the universal analogy of a lost cause? Fuck them. They don’t seem like rapture material to me, and they can’t take a punch.

Then one day the terrestrials held a special gathering for the earthlings. All across the globe pods of aliens made synchronized movements, like hula dancers with unbending joints. Then they entered their invisible ships and left. They haven’t visited, not a card, nothing. Everyone’s really worked up about it.

Gabriel Congdon lives in Seattle where he is one of the creators of the web-series &@. His work can be found in Inklette MagazineNo Extra Words Podcast and is forthcoming from Kaaterskill Basin Literary Journal and Funny in Five Hundred.

Photo by: Ana Prundaru