Lisa Rosley learned the hard way: never underestimate what those little Greys can do.
Lisa had taken an interest in extraterrestrials back when she was an elementary school girl. Being the type of child who seldom connected with peers her own age, it seemed almost natural that she would take an interest in the possibility of life outside her galaxy. She spent countless hours of free time drawing pictures of "little green men" and watching cartoons.
When she grew older, however, she grew "wiser" – not in the sense that she stopped believing in aliens, but rather that she learned more about their encounters with humans. The Internet opened up a whole new realm of alleged abductions, molestations, and interbreeding implying that maybe those oh-so-friendly ETs that graced her Saturday mornings and weekday afternoons were not as innocuous as she once presumed. Could those aliens really be no better than human men?
Speaking of those wretched Earthlings, boys never seemed to "do it" for Lisa. She had a few crushes, even a few boyfriends, but those relationships always ended with the male counterpart doing something idiotic or perverted. Girls, on the rare occasions she managed to find one that would swing both ways, were no better – they cheated and lied the same as any man would. Needless to say, the sex was never worth it, either.
Now, with nineteen years of bad experiences behind her, she only found comfort on clear nights when she could walk through the park alone and gaze at the stars. On this particular night, the moon was full – but strangely, bright red. Stranger still was the fact that no one else seemed to notice the crimson satellite, though assuming anyone else in that small town would pay attention to anything was giving them more credit than they deserved.
Lisa pulled her sportscoat closer to her thin frame as a midnight chill gave its brief greeting.
It's about time I got back home,
she figured to herself, taking the shortcut through the orange groves back to her apartment. She did still have that Statistics project to work on...
Suddenly, something rustled behind Lisa. She jerked around. "Who's there?"
No answer.
Lisa glanced wearily into the dark clump of citrus trees, unable to make out anything other than the oranges on the ground. She was well aware of the stupidity of walking alone in a dark, secluded area after hours, but she was convinced that she could put up a fight if she had to.
The rustling shattered the silence again, but that time, Lisa saw something – it looked something like a child, but silver. Her apprehensive heart skipped a beat into curiosity.
A half-eaten orange – bitten clean through the rind – rolled to her feet. Scurrying about and chatter in a strange, sing-songy language ensued. Lisa stepped tentatively in the direction the orange had rolled from.
