The Paradox

I'm seated alone in a big light grey couch, in front of an unlit fireplace and a led tv above it, in a luxurious cabin in the wood between mountains, with the front wall made almost only by glass.  Depressed by the recent news about the attacks in Paris, reflecting on the nature of humankind i stay there, motionless for some time in the little light dawn is spreading around. With a sight I turn on the tv without really watching it, but in a few minutes a new special edition of the news starts and with some trepidation i give it some attention.
But it is not about Paris, it is not about more death, alien spaceships are quickly approaching earth.

I'm now on a hill, near the city the alien spaceships decided to approach and with the few others that have the ability to fly on our own we start to fly toward the the city.
From the long sharp ships a couple little (in comparison to the ships) vehicles depart.
They are something halfway between advertising balloons and airships and are en route to the city center, where a lot of skyscraper and narrow streets, just a few meters larger than those vehicles are, dominate the city-scape.
I arrive flying in the city just as one of those airships gets trapped in one of the streets. The vehicle is so soft that not even a window of the building it touch is broken, but still the airship comes to a stop.

A couple aliens, very human-like but still different enough to feel alien, exit the airship and enter the otherwise unoccupied and a little run down building through one of the window.
I've entered the building, probably from an open window on the upper levels as I'm now going downstairs to reach the aliens. Suddenly i stop and sit on the stairs and start crying big fat tears, silently sobbing and gulping down each breath.
After a while one of the aliens, a male if you stick to human standards, reach me from the lower floors. He stops and looks at me, before having to answer some communication device and i someway know he is speaking to his father (that is also his commander) that is bothering him for some reason or another. I see/feel/know how annoyed he is by his strict father. Someway he dismiss him and look back at me, wondering and silently asking why I'm crying.
Between sobs i answer that I'm so happy, happy and relieved that i could meet them, that i was always sure that aliens existed but that i thought i would never be able to meet them, I try to explain him the Fermi Paradox. And i keep crying, even if we are now smiling at each other.


A. N.
This is mostly a dream i had just one or two days after the attacks in Paris in November 2015 that i had to write down and now found on my pc.
If you want to know how the alien looked like they were a gentler, less animalesque version of the Thundercats, basically humans with something feline in them.

A gratuitous carrot throw

Old big trees on both sides of the street gave me relief from the hot sun of this summer end that is able to make the humidity of this park sticky.

Just a few steps before i passed one of the inner gates of the park and the difference is very noticeable, here the trees are way higher and older, several decades older.

I'm just taking a walk and strolling at a leisure pace on the left side of the road. Sometimes it's like there is someone silently walking on my left but there is no one i can see.

I often look down, sometimes to avoid a fallen leaf sometimes to purposely crush one under my feet and unexpectedly i notice a carrot, a big, long and dirty carrot laying just a couple step before me.

I grab it and wonder why it is there, maybe it was intended for one of the horses of the coaches you can rent at the entrance.

Having no use for it i gratuitously throw it across the road. But while i was lost in the imagine of a carrot eating horse something happened, a little light green cheap car is coming toward me and the carrot i threw ends under one of the front wheels.

There is a cracking noise when the carrot breaks under it and then the screeching of the car swaying left and right, the frantic movement of the driver trying to regain control of its direction.  With a turn on the right he avoid one of the trees on his side of the road but then, as if scared by one of the trees on my side he abruptly turn on his left and can't do nothing more than crashing on the wall on the side of the gate.

After a few seconds of shocked stillness i run to the car and there is no doubt that the driver is dead, his torso crushed by the impact on the wheel and several wounds from the shattered windshield.

Then something else grab my attention, a little piece of paper that is gently resting on the passenger seat, almost unperturbed by the wreck.

I can't stop myself from reading it:

     No one know what you did and no one ever will, now what will you do ?

       1) You run away and try to forget what happened here

       2) You call the 911 and tell them there was just a car crash

       3) You call the 911 and tell them what really happened

I consider those three choices for a long time while turning around to check the trees around me. If no one saw me who wrote this note ? Why i had and still have this feeling of someone walking by my side. Where did this bastard go ?

At this point with this unsolved big question i awoke from my dream and went around for a couple days with this nasty anxiety keeping my breath a little short.

This pieces comes from two inspiration: a dream i had a few days ago and a word of the day, gratuitous in this case.