I am exceptionally gullible. It is in fact my middle name. I also believe in all manner of unbelievable things, like ghosts, and past lives. And aliens.
There is absolutely no evidence to support my belief in all these things – I have never encountered a ghost, nor an alien; I was once hypnotized by a past-life regression therapist (for an article which I suggested, pretending I was skeptical, when in fact I was hugely excited), and I didn’t come up with anything at all, so I pretended to be a former royal who could see Regents Park from her bedroom window.
And I continue to believe.
Creaky Cottage, our lovely old falling-down-slightly house on the water in Connecticut, has a ghost, or so my husband and daughter tell me. They both say they have seen a woman, out of the corner of their eye, walk down the hallway. I have never seen anything, and I think they are pulling my leg.
Creaky Cottage also has very large windows in the master bedroom. We have thought of putting up curtains, but we love the view so much, we have decided to leave them naked. Every time I wake up at night and look out the window, at the moon reflecting on the water, I feel at peace.
A couple of days ago, I woke up at three in the morning and as I made my way to the bathroom, I found myself looking at the stars, and one in particular. It shone brighter than the others, and – was I going completely crazy – it seemed to be moving from left to right.
I blinked, before noticing that there were another two lights, blinking, and moving from left to right. I stood in the window for twenty minutes, with a mix of vague fear, and excitement, for this was surely my first alien encounter.
I didn’t want the aliens to be coming for me (I was as still as a stone, just in case any movement would attract them) but I wanted to prove once and for all that something ridiculous I believe in, exists. Also, I was waiting for more lights to appear, probably in a circle, and start shining white light down to the ground. I truly expected this to be my close encounter.
Eventually I decided to wake up Beloved, who was in the deepest of sleeps. I tiptoed over, trying not to attract the attention of the aliens and their probes, and shook my husband, who blearily got out of bed.
“Don’t turn on the light!” I hissed, in a sudden panic, before regulating my voice back to it’s normal level. “There are strange lights,” I said, pretending I was exceedingly calm and this was a regular occurrence.
He joined me at the window, looked out and said, “they’re satellites.”
“But…but,” I spluttered. “What about that one? It’s hovering right over the country club.”
“Trick of perspective,” he said, turning and going back to bed. I followed him shortly thereafter, and fell into a dreamless sleep that featured neither aliens, nor probing. I still believe, though, so if you have stories to share, do please let me know.