I'm the master sergeant who took calls from people who dialed the wrong number, wanting to report aliens that were watching them through their bathroom mirror. I'm the guy that told them to take shaving cream and ensure every inch of the mirror was covered, then get tin foil and make a hat from it, because, if they were watching, you could bet your bottom dollar they were also reading your mind. I'm the guy that, while the caller was busy with the shave cream, transferred their call to the OSI, the Office of Special Investigations. I was not the guy the callers wanted or needed. I was the wrong number. I was their worst nightmare, the guy who messes with people's heads, the guy who figured the OSI would probably want to share in the humor of the moment. I was party to the policy of "plausible deniability" for way too long, so when it comes to what I see, no one can tell me what they think I saw. Not even the voices in my head have the right to do that.
Satellites, stars, aircraft, swamp gas, UFOs, or flying saucers and little green men? Everyone has an opinion. Everyone knows what they saw, right? Sometimes what you see just makes you scratch your head and smile. There are, according to Shakespeare, “more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” This is just a short tale to, hopefully, make you think. If you’d like to read the rest of it, please follow the attached link: A Point of Light
