Sunrise. The spacecraft landed on a sand dune. Ocean not far beyond. The pod door opened, and out stepped the alien. Ray-gun in hand.
It examined its surroundings.
Down the beach, an overweight man tapped at freshly worked ground with a spade.
The alien stumbled down the dune, walking towards him.
It approached the man from behind. Cleared its throat.
“Take me to your leader.”
The man turned and jumped back, startled.
“Well, I’ll be…” he laughed.
“Your leader,” repeated the alien. “Take me to him or her.”
The man leaned on his shovel, nodding. He smirked. “Yeah, all right,” he said. “This way.” The fat man pointed over his shoulder.
The alien glanced at the spade. “Your weapon?” it asked.
The man considered it. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “I guess.”
The alien nodded. “Well, then. Take me to your leader.”
The obese man lifted the shovel over his head. Brought it down. Such violent strength. It connected with the center of the alien’s head. Cracked its skull. The visitor collapsed, down, onto its face.
Blood, bluest of blue, thick as paint, flowed. Seeped into. Mixed with sand.
The man kneeled, turned the alien onto its back. Their eyes found each other.
“I’m going to hurt you again,” whispered the man. “And then, I’m going to kill you. And cut you into pieces. And bury you under the beach grass.”
The alien’s hands reached out. At the pink sky. It moved its eyes. Saw the sun coming up.
“What is it?” it said. Slurring.
The man followed the alien’s gaze.
“That’s sunshine, sir,” he answered. “Don’t you know sunshine?”
Yes. The alien had known. It knew the sun.
It knew more than it had ever wanted.