He really should be wearing a tinfoil hat, that was how it felt. Those eyes boring into him, the look of absolute disbelief. He knew what he had seen but the looks he was receiving made him want to second-guess his own senses.
He saw what he saw, he knew it. He had heard what they had said and now he was doing the right thing and telling the authorities. Only the authorities were struggling to hold back laughter as he finally broke eye contact and looked at his knees.
“Now, son. Do you think maybe you want to rethink that statement?”
“No, I saw them. I did!” Even to his own ears he sounded whiny and desperate, voice getting higher with each embarrassed syllable.
“Ok, look. I don’t want to charge you with wasting police time, and I won’t if you leave right now.”
He wanted to protest, wanted to shout them down and wave his hands in the air, exclaiming that he definitely fucking saw an alien and that it was hiding out down by the old warehouse. Instead, he nodded his head and shuffled away, barely muffled laughter echoing down the hallway.
His bicycle was where he had left it abandoned on its side by the entrance. The wheel was bent and a scrap of his now-ruined jeans was caught in the gears. It squeaked and complained as he wheeled it out of the car park and back down the road.
His cheeks were red with embarrassment, the heavy weight of foolishness on his shoulders as he trudged back the way he had come. He had to pass the warehouse again to get home, there was no avoiding the shame there.
The bike announced his presence well before he arrived and there was a small blue creature waiting on the abandoned track. It laughed its strange gurgling laugh as he lumbered past. Its voice was deeper than it should have been for its size and it could barely catch its breath from laughing so hard.
“I told you they wouldn’t believe you.”
“Invading this place will be easier than I thought. We’ll be everywhere before anyone even pays attention.”
“Shut up!” He hurried away with his bike, already making a list in his head of supplies he might need for surviving the coming invasion.
Tales written from a prompt in just 10 minutes.
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