The city sleeps beneath the moonless night. A distant set of lights dances on the horizon. Lights flicker. The few phones working blink on and off. Internet sites hold the same screen.
A hum travels through the still air. Windows start to vibrate. A few dogs start to howl. They pace, looking to the sky.
The lights get larger. The hum louder.
The strange disk shaped craft finds shelter next to the harbor. It’s lights glow softly on the water.
“Did you tell them we were coming?” Fearless leader asks his crew.
“We called this guy who tells this world we are ancient aliens. He said ‘sure kid. I’ll meet me there. If I’m late, just wait a few minutes’.” Number 641 replies.
“Noone is here. We drove 4.3 light years and he’s late! Let’s go!” Fearless leader isn’t happy.
Written as part of a challenge called Friday fictioneers, https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com