I often wondered about life beyond Earth. How could it not exist in such a wide-universe such as ours? Yet, we here on Earth have received no indication that alien life does exist. What would you do if you woke up one day surrounded by alien beings?

If it was me, I’d ask them why they had to fly around New Jersey for months before making contact. Once my futile joke went over their oblong shaped heads, hoping they were friendly aliens, I’d do my best to communicate with them. Speaking slowly as possible as if that would help them understand, pantomiming greetings, and scribbling down smiley faces.

After some blank stares, they would speak some language I don’t understand. I’d resort to music because if it worked for Andy Weir, why wouldn’t it for me? But they’d only stand still.

Finally, I’d pull out a picture of my wife and son and ask if they’d taken them too? 

Coincidentally, they would shake their head no and then voices would flood my mind.

‘We have all the answers you’d need.’ They all would say.

‘How to keep peace.’ One echoed.

‘How to solve the hunger crisis.’ Another would say.

‘How to get everyone to use their blinkers!’ A final one would say. ‘It’s so simple, it’s nothing but a tiny handle.’

‘We’ve seen your media.’ They would all say again. ‘Don’t worry, our answers aren’t some simple number, they are true!’

Then I would think back to my wife and son again. Their smile, their laughter. How it felt hugging them goodnight or cuddling with them during a movie.

Then I would look at the alien technology in front of me wondering how the hell they existed and got to Earth when it was true, mankind couldn’t even use their own technology properly. 

I’d want to ask ‘why me?’ – out of all the thirty-something white males in America (because to Americans, America is the world), why me?

But instead  I’d just say no, I want to go home and show them my family portrait again that we were able to use a 20% discount coupon on at our local Sears.

To my regret, they would shake their heads no, all at once, pointing at a porthole.

Afraid of what I’d see, I would only take a peek out, but would see it clearly: a destroyed Earth with hundreds of other spacecrafts hovering in its orbit.

Behind me I’d hear a machine start, hoping it wasn’t an anal probe, but realizing it most likely was.

That was when I realized I was screwed and wished I never wondered at all.

Copyright William Meier Jr. 2025 ©