It's not entirely crazy to say that there is not a world inside of this one. After all, whoever the aliens are, they certainly do have a reputation for being intelligent. I know a lot of children who can play hide and seek so well that their parents go into a blind panic, frantically screaming for the child they think they lost. I once read a quote saying, "Don't trust the man who will tell you he knows the truth, trust the one who'll say he's trying to find it." I don't think I know a single person who I've ever been able to trust exclusively, except for my parents. I think of the fish in the ocean when I imagine aliens- when we float along their world in our boats, are we UFO's, or some kind of god? Do they even see us, and know we have a world? Some people have theorized that we only see the things we can imagine. What if we haven't imagined it all? Sometimes I think that maybe, the only thing I can do is live and keep my eyes open.

There was this long space of time where I couldn't speak. I'd come to work with my coffee in hand in the same general manner as always-relatively annoyed, but still smiling. I set my purse on the counter, staring out the front window, past all of the glowing Halloween display, it was just barely sunrise. I walked around, flicking on the different displays, some morbid and others cheesy, all strangely silent and making that electric 'whirring' noise. I got ready to turn the lights on from the back when I felt the faintest brush of something across my shoulder-almost like a piece of hair caught there. Running my hand right over my skin I paused, looking up at the creak coming from the teak rafters. My whole heart drenched ice cold, a paralyzing jolt of surprise stopped my breath, all feeling left my body when he said, "Hello."