Aliens Landed in Ballykilduff
Aliens Landed in Ballykilduff
And Other Strange Stories
The Haunted House
Extra, Bonus Features:
I Caught Bird Flu
It’s Waiting Especially for YOU
Stone the Crows
Live a Full Life
The Fertilizer Song
Aliens landed in Ballykilduff,
Aliens landed; that is a fact,
In the dark of the night it happened, it did,
At the end of my garden they landed, then hid.
I was lying in bed, sleeping soundly one night, when something, a noise outside my bedroom widow woke me with a start. Sitting up in bed, I said, “What on earth was that?” However, despite listening intently I heard nothing else. Lying down again, I pulled the bed clothes tightly around me. “Brrr,” I said, shivering from the cold, “it feels more like winter than summer.” Pulling the bed clothes higher around me, I said, “This global warming thing, they keep telling us about, sure is cold.” With those words on my lips I fell fast asleep.
A few minutes the same noise woke me again. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I said, “What on earth can it be?” Sitting up, I yawned, trying to figure it out. Scratching my head, I leaned over to the clock. Grabbing hold of it, I gazed it the dial. “It’s a quarter to four!” I grizzled. Scratching my head some more, I said, “Whoever is making that noise could have picked a better time in which to do it.”
Then I heard it again; the same noise, followed by the sound of banging and hammering. “Surely the neighbours aren’t fixing their car at this ungodly hour!” I groaned. “It has been giving them some trouble of late, but fixing it now, at a quarter to four in the morning, is going too far, so it is!”
The banging and hammering noises grew steadily louder. “It can’t be them, can it?” I growled. Getting out of bed, I shuffled across to the window. Pulling the curtains apart, I gazed outside, to their back garden. It was shrouded in darkness. “Well, it certainly ain’t them,” I said thankfully, “unless they can see in the dark.” Abandoning the curtain, I returned to bed.
I had only just laid my head on the pillow when the banging and hammering started again. Jumping out of bed, I groaned, “Will someone please tell me what is going on around here?”
Awakening from her slumbers, my wife, Breda, said, “What are you doing, Gerrard, standing at the end of the bed, ranting like a mad man?”
“I am sorry,” I answered. “I didn’t mean to awaken you.”
“Well, you did a good job of doing it,” she sarcastically replied. “What has you so worked up, anyhow?” she asked.
“It’s that noise,” I told her.
“Noise – what noise?”
“It was there a minute ago – honest it was.”
“Well, it’s not now!” she snapped. “Come to bed. You were probably having a dream.”
“More like a nightmare,” I grumbled. Approaching the widow, I pulled back the curtain, hoping to see the perpetrator going about his foul business. However, our garden, like our neighbour’s was shrouded in darkness.
“Forget about it,” Breda said to me. “On the morrow, we will go outside and see if anything is amiss. Meanwhile, get into bed lest you catch your death of cold!”
“Global warning, they keep telling us,” I said, grumbling about the weather.
“I’ll ‘global warming’ you if you don’t hush up and let me sleep!” she answered.
Suddenly, as I was letting go of the curtain an extraordinary bright flash outside secured my undivided attention.
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