Frain and Willa

He/She/They appear in my backyard as the sunset gleams pink. I jump to my feet, heart pounding in my throat, and see the alien wink!

Those eyes are shaped like chicken eggs, lashes curling upward, and I step back but then move forward.

Songbirds flit from the trees to the feeders; sunflower chips stuck to beaks, such voracious eaters.

"Who are you?" I inquire, and the answer telepathically nudges into my brain.

The alien replies, "I am called Frain."

I respond, "Hello, Frain. Are you familiar with what we call rain?"

The mist turns to larger drops, and my feet are wet in my flip-flops. Frain nods slowly, reaching out a hand, then touches my damp hair, curling a strand. "Do you have a pronoun I should use?"

"We are simple and do not abuse, so I tell you it is He; I won't be abstruse." (Abstruse?!!)

As the Downy woodpecker observes from a small boulder, a finch pecks Frain's shoulder. Frain bends to touch the Downy, but it zips away. His lashes curl downward, dejected.

"It's OK, look at the hummingbird." Frain looks up and mutters, "Oh."

I smile and point to the fountain; we watch the water bubbling and spilling, and his lashes curl up when he hears a wind chime begin trilling.

Next, a green Giant Darner dragonfly catches the alien’s eye. It hovers, and his face splits to smile, their stares a definite tie.

“You don’t have a mouth, and your face splits to smile.”

“That is because our race doesn’t seek to rile.” His words, spoken aloud, are in low tones of vibration and instantly absorbed inside me, a full sensation. He looks overhead as Venus rises in the sky. “Terra Two,” he remarks, pointing high.

“We call it Venus; look over there,” I say, turning. “That is Jupiter with many moons.”

He replies, “I live beyond your stars, traveling to explore more creatures, unraveling visions like your gallery, all dazzling.

“Ha, ha,” I chuckle. “This is my backyard, full of wonders, but it is a postage card for your travels.”

Overhead, the Milky Way arcs and a meteor shoots a display.

“I will return each season to see the changes of your gallery, the bright and vivid ranges.”

"Oh, Frain, I cannot wait for you to see Spring with its rainbow colors. Different colors in Autumn are stunning to the eye and soul, becoming the season of rest - winter at its best. Give me a hint; send me signs when you and I will again spend time."

"Willa, what a fitting name for the girl who showcases nature, so easy for you to unfurl. My visit has been unique, and it's our secret until I come in Spring to see."

Frain disappears in the midnight ether, and the Horned owl calls to nightly creatures. Suddenly, I spot a shooting star, and my brain is flooded with a message from Frain.

"Thank you, Willa, for our lovely adventure; I especially enjoyed the dragonfly creature. That shooting star was me, heading abroad and sending you a sign to hold in your heart until my return for more of the wonders I know you will impart."

Copyright © 1/4/2025 by Andrea O. Corwin

A/N: I wrote this story as a poem years ago and published it on Vocal. It got little attention, so I thought I would change it and make it microfiction. I hope you like it.

Thank you so much for stopping by! 😃 If you liked this piece, please click the ♡, leave a comment, share it, and remember, you can subscribe for free.