How To Identify An Extraterrestrial
A tale descrbing Mono Petra's meeting with the green people of the planet Niburu.
Published by Manol Petrov, 29 Mar 2018
Observing the vast and colourful human hive that is the Paris suburb of Belleville was a cosmic experience. The neighbourhood was teeming with black, white, yellow and white aliens – hustling and cashing in as though each and everyone was destined to rip off the rest and vanish into deep space with the plunder.
Deep space is, alas, off limits to us and our greed. Stray cats and dogs roam the streets ot large cities, spy on us and report our dirty dealings to someone who watches us and is entertained by our folly.
Thus did I and my friend Marco while away the hours – two dreamers who sipped on their beers with their backs to the bar and scanned the space launching pad that is Paris. We’d just abandoned the topic of aliens and were about to concentrate on Saturday football bets when an Asian lady wearing a magnificent hat came our way. A pheasant feather was pinned to her millinery. She wore white lace gloves and reached into a dainty, faux-crocodile leather, lacquered hand bag to reveal fliers advertising the services of Minassian, a fortune teller who had just arrived from Mount Ararat and was to give a lecture on
Mount Niburu and its appearance before the eyes of humanity
Her invite was cause for another beer and much head-scratching. When we were young, those heads of ours were a source of boundless cosmic energy.
It was self-evident we would go and see Minassian. For some time now we’d been searching for those elusive green people everyone was talking about but noone had seen. We drank up, hastily filled out the betting cards and headed for the meeting with the exotic esoteric man.
We found the address – a bookshop I knew but had never been inside. A heavy smell of burning incense hung around it. To this day I cannot stand the smell of it.
I would have subjected myself to this smelly torture just so that we were able to find a green man but to my surprise the air in the room was indistinguishable from the air in Paris.
The bookshop was bursting at the seams with people. We stood by the door and waited for the appearance of Minassian.
Before long, and running just a little late, a sixty-year old gentleman with a huge nose and moustache materialized before the audience. Grinning widely and speaking French with an Armenian accent, he launched into a fascinating story about the appearance of Niburu and the attendant spiritual cataclysms. I looked around the hall to see if curiosity had lured a green man to the meeting with the Armenian gentleman. I must have made an impression. The lecturer became distracted by my searching look. Gradually the audience felt the change in energy, some turned around,
the crowd was buzzing
Their distraction helped me scan them more thoroughly, especially as they were turning back to fixate me. An by God, sitting on the first row infront of Minassian there was not one, but two specimens of the green kind. They were seated at the first row so that they could hear better. I showed them to Matthew and trained my eyes on the Armenian’s big nose. The noise subsided, he finished the lecture and then we ate some home-made cookies and spoke to him about the qualities of Georgian brandy. We parted with warm embraces and went back to check if our bets had won us anything.
Matthew was a happy chappy for having seen them. He had the look of a punk whose band was from another planet.
- Did you see them, Mono?
- I did!
- Did you see how they disappeared after the end of the lecture?
- No, I didn’t, but it is a fact that they weren’t at the party afterwards.
- Mono, the green ones are just as curious as we are.
- That’s right, my friend, the universe runs on curiosity.