Old farmer John will lay fast asleep in his bed under a downy blanket of blue.
The cows are still under the darkened sky as black as the coal bucket down in the cellar.
In the distance motors can be heard as clouds of dust appear to envelope the corn.
Tractors are working feverishly from dark till just before dawn.
The villagers sit as if in a trance while the equipment does its job.
No one can see the drivers, and one old woman lets out a sob.
“It’s those aliens, they’re behind the wheels for sure”, she cries.
Everyone stays motionless as the noise and dust throughout the corn flies.
All of a sudden, the noise and dust disappear as if it was never there.
The villagers rise to their feet and give a blank stare.
The field was transformed into circles and writing that they read with fear.
It says in huge letters, “We’re Here”.
