I go out looking for aliens. I walk slow. You might say I walk too slow. But someone once said they envied me for my lack of pace. I walk even slower, just to make sure. Always a day late and a dollar short. Always a day late and a dollar short. I make a wish and it escapes my cold mouth like a fish swimming through the blue river sky.
I walk as slowly as I can. Avoiding the cracks. I don't look back. It is my only plan. It is my only care. Please don't stare. I know they are out there. Aliens. Conceald in clouds. Out of sink. Above the horizon. Below the radar. Disconnected. Graceful. Shy. Watching me from way up high.
All my friends are aliens.
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