K. Marvin Bruce

  It was like Stonehenge.   Terah found himself in shock.   After everything he’d experienced, he’d not been prepared for this.   “Stone circles,” Calum said on their short walk through the woods to the clearing, “have an ancient pedigree.   Stonehenge and Avebury are the most famous, but you find them all over the world.   Up in the Orkney Islands the Ring of Brodgar is in impressive sight, standing out alone on Stenness.   People don’t hear about it because it takes considerable effort to get there, but once you’ve seen it—felt it—you’ll know that these stone circles were numinous places.   We don’t know why they built them, but the put considerable resources into doing so. “Or think of Göbekli Tepe.   At least ten millennia old, and fine work indeed.   And it was built in Turkey before agriculture even developed.   There are stone circles in Israel.   In northwest France.   They’re likely to be found in other locations ...

  Terah awoke with a scream.   His own.   Or it would’ve been, had any sound emerged.   He was paralyzed on the comfortable bed.   His opened eyes could move, however, and he saw in the dim light, other people.   Small people.   Incongruous in the modern room with Medieval touches.   Although he’d had no interest in the paranormal back in his teaching days, he had no trouble recognizing aliens.   The word “greys” even echoed in his mind.   They were all around the bed, regarding him with their wrap-around eyes.   Their skinny bodies seemed to be covered with tight-fitting clothing and their bulbous heads were enormous.   Their long fingers reached for him and he couldn’t move. He hadn’t drawn the drapes and milky moonlight spilled over the scene.   He wasn’t levitating.   He wasn’t aboard some spaceship.   He was in a house—a place almost as foreign as a flying saucer these days—but a house with occult appurtenan...