The Aliens

Piercing cries, like the unholy howling of wolves - a story in exactly 100-words

Photo courtesy of Thomas D’arcy O’Donnell, Canada ( size edited )

They weren’t aliens, not really.

But, then again … maybe they were.

Eerie flashing lights illuminated their gatherings at nightfall, accompanied by unearthly sounds. Piercing cries, like the unholy howling of wolves. A rhythmic incessant pounding of wood on stretched skin. A bashing of metal on metal.

From the open doorway came a pungent smell, an acrid haze that made me stagger even from my distant, hidden vantage point. These rituals went on for hours every night. Aliens? Oh, yes. 1969. Santa Cruz. Garage band.

They say, though, if you remember California in the ‘60s, you most likely weren’t there.

Ivan-C-Fajardo on Unsplash.com ( edited )

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Sharron Bassano