loving the aliens

Of course there's always the mystical.
Explanation I mean.
Lights in the sky.
Something mystical.
Tonight I thought of Fatima.
At Fatima in 1917 the children said the virgin Mary had told them that if mankind did not repent a yet more terrible war would break out. The signal for the coming of this war would be a night lit by strange lights.
In 1938 there was supposedly such a night.
We know what happened next.
And now here we are again.
A night lit by strange lights.
Any connection?
As I walked Paddy Pup this evening beneath a splendid star filled sky I was still musing on the sightings.
Will we ever know what they were?
Then I smiled.
I was thinking about Frances.
My characterful cousin Frances arrived back in Kilcullen after a short holiday break this week. She had missed all the excitement and had not heard about our lights in the sky.
In the local supermarket one of the staff called out to her.
"Hey," sez he. "Did you hear they're seeing UFO's up your end of the town?"
Frances rolled her eyes.
"I wonder what drugs they were taking," she shot back with sparkling elan.
Then the clerk informed her that one of the ringleaders in claiming to have seen the UFOs was her cousin James.
And Frances to her eternal credit, allowed her patrician jaw to drop, and spake not another word.