Close Encounter of the Extra-Terrestrial Kind

It has been brought to my notice that a number of my readers do not believe a word of what I write here. They think that I make up all these stories for your entertainment and mine. Be that as it may, I cannot influence what you choose to believe, but let me assure you that this story is perfectly true. My reputation as an honest speaking individual rests on it.

Yesterday, whilst at home alone, I saw an alien from outer-space. I can see some of you smirking already. Please don't. This is serious and the repercussions of this incident can affect us all.

I was in the kitchen and there was a tap on the window. I looked out and there, standing as clear as day, was an alien from out of space. I knew straight away that he was an alien because he was green with envy. Maybe where he comes from they don't have nice kitchens. Also, he was wearing a saucepan on his head which I recognised as one of ours. I looked out on the washing line, and sure enough, one of the saucepan I had hung out to dry was missing. It was on the alien's head.

I politely said, "How do you do?" but he ignored me and stood there by the window.

I had just prepared a pot of tea and sandwiches. Little triangular cucumber and cheese sandwiches with the crust cut out. They looked very dainty and delicious. The type of sandwiches you get in posh stately homes when you have afternoon tea with scones and clotted cream and strawberry jam.

I picked up the plate of sandwiches, opened the kitchen door slowly so as not to frighten him, and offered him a sandwich.

He picked up a sandwich and threw it over the garden fence into the neighbour's garden. That was hardly civilised or friendly was it? I was fuming inside and about to blow off; but being British I kept a stiff upper-lip and offered him a plate of scones with clotted cream and jam. Perhaps he'd prefer something sweet, I thought.

He picked up a scone and threw it in the neighbour's garden. I left both plates on the table beside him and he picked each sandwich and scone in turn and tossed them over the fence into the neighbour's garden. I kept calm and said, "Do you speak English?"

He did not reply but pointed his index finger up to the sky.

"Do you want to phone home?" I asked, having remembered seeing this gesture on TV.

"No ... I am giving you the finger, you idiot!" he said in perfect English.

I was shocked out of my socks. Would you believe it? There I was, in my own back garden, with an alien from outer space, wearing a saucepan on his head, speaking perfect English and fully conversant with our modern sign language.

"Who are you?" I asked smiling as a gesture of friendship.

"What's it to you? Just mind your own business!" he replied lowering his hand to his side.

I must admit I was at a loss for words, because I did not have my dictionary with me. After a few moments of silence, as we just looked at each other saying nothing, I hesitated and asked, "Where do you come from?"

"Your imagination!" he replied calmly.

I could not believe my ears; or indeed my eyes. So I chose to believe my bladder which wanted to speak torrents at the time. Did I hear him correctly, I asked myself. Is he really there standing only feet away? Am I really here? Or is this all a dream or some sort of hallucination?

The bit about the missing sandwiches and scones was real enough. It was the best whole grain granary bread, and the most expensive scones, that went flying into orbit and over the fence. They were on offer buy one and get one free at the supermarket. That bit was real enough. I had the shop's receipt to prove it.

As for him being here, that's up to you to decide and believe it or not.