Unrecognisable

By Old Brid Kid

The sudden gale hurled us towards land. Our charts showed an inlet where we could moor until the night seas calmed. We tied up our yacht and the six of us clambered ashore. We could just make each other out, our bright orange waterproofs and Sou’westers reflecting the minimal illumination. We trudged towards the village until we saw a cottage. Hoping to be offered refuge until dawn, we banged on the door. It opened slowly, light spilling into the rainstorm and over an exhausted crew.

On seeing us, the woman shouted indoors: “Hamish! It’s for you! It’s the bloody aliens again!”