This blog contains material I wrote and posted on between the years 2005 and 2011 only. It does not contain any new material. For newer writing, please check my main blog (Bill the Butcher).

Friday, 12 October 2012

Close Encounter of the Fifteenth Kind

You,” said the Flth of the Xsth from the Fifth Dimension, “are sick.”

Dila Ram shrugged. “You’re a fine one to talk,” he said. “Back home, anyone looking like you would be in intensive care.”

“Speak when you’re spoken to,” said the Flth. It glared at Dila Ram from its bloodshot eyes and rubbed its white face with the feverish glow over the high cheekbones. “You’re sick. How can you deny it?”

“I’m not denying it,” said Dila Ram. He looked around the grey chamber. The walls were smooth and furry and warm and soft, the floor clear and transparent. Down far below he could see the stars. “I’m not denying it, but I’d like to know what on earth you mean by it.”

“Earth?” the Flth pounced triumphantly. “You aren’t on Earth.”

“Don’t I know it.” Dila Ram looked down at the stars. “But just where are we?”

“That’s not important.” The Flth sniffed loudly. “You’re really sick.”

“Just, please, tell me in what way I’m sick,” said Dila Ram, “and I’ll be forever grateful to you.”

“Well...” The Flth looked over Dila Ram. “You wear clothes!” it exclaimed triumphantly.

“So?” Dila Ram looked at the Flth’s scarecrow-thin body. “You’re wearing...clothes.” He pointed doubtfully at the Flth’s breechclout.

“Not like you. And eat...that.” Spittle flying from its lips, the Flth pointed a trembling forefinger at the apple in Dila Ram’s hand.

“What?” Dila Ram looked at the apple, and took a bite out of it. “Why not? Try it – it’s good.” 

The Flth shrieked and backed away from the proffered fruit, shuddering with horror. Dila Ram wondered if it was about to have a heart attack. He shrugged and ate the rest of the apple. By the time he was through, the Flth had apparently recovered.

“So,” said Dila Ram, “why have you brought me here?”

“To, uh –“ the Flth’s bloodshot eyes blinked. “To study you,” it said finally.

“Study me? What for?”

“What for? Why does anything?” The Flth picked nervously at the furry wall. A piece came off in its fingernails. “Look what you made me do!” it exclaimed.

“Serves you right for putting me in such a room,” said Dila Ram. “It looks like the walls are made of the skin of a decaying caterpillar.”

“That’s very interesting,” said the Flth. “How did you know that? Who’s been telling you things?”

“You mean...?” Dila Ram moved away from the nearest wall, and looked up quickly at the ceiling. It was pink and fluffy, and strings of it hung down towards him. One of the strings brushed his face. It smelt good. He licked it. It tasted even better than it smelled. He began to eat it.

“Watch what you’re doing!” The Flth jumped up and down in its agitation. At every jump, the floor trembled. “You’re eating the ship!”

“Well, you oughtn’t to make the ceiling out of candyfloss.” Dila Ram swallowed the piece he had been eating. “I won’t eat the rest if you’ll just put me back.”

“But we can’t do that!” wailed the Flth. “We’ll study you, and then we  want to find a female to breed with you!”

“But if you do that,” said Dila Ram logically, “the children will begin eating your candyfloss ceiling, and before you know it...”

“No,” said the Flth. “We’ll make a room for them, a special room, with walls they can’t eat, walls made of, uh...”


“Chocolate, that’s it! Walls made of chocolate! Nothing can eat chocolate.”

“Flth,” said Dila Ram, “my dear friend, I have some bad news for you...”

Two days later Dila Ram was back in his usual haunts, where he remains to this day. And when anyone asks where he had been, whether it is true that he had once been abducted by an alien UFO, he smiles and offers that person an apple. 

Copyright B Purkayastha 2009

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