Wishful Thinking

The night was dark, and the sky was blue, not unusual for a summer night in Maine, 1999. I was driving up the coast of Maine to the furthest point, the eastern part of the United States, Eastport, to wake up in the morning and be the first in America to see the sun rise. It would appear close enough to touch.

I was not surprised, not in Maine, but I was stunned to catch a moose in my headlights which caused me to screech to a stop. The moose stared at me or rather the lights from my jeep. I backed up and stepped out, absent of doors, as I regarded the huge mammal with full rack sauntering off into the forest. Suddenly, a wide, red light beamed down from above. The light wasn't bright but filled a space as large as a small home, and then went dark. I looked up to see a circular flying saucer, wider than a football field, with a Skyliner type message spinning around its circumference which read, I COME FROM YOUR IMAGINATION. THANK YOU SKYLINER.