When I was seven years old, I saw a UFO. It was early morning and I was taking my hour long bus ride to school. I was sitting next to my friend Jared, when he tapped me on the shoulder.
He pointed out the window and said, “What’s that?”
At first I couldn’t tell what he was pointing at. All I could see were power lines and a slice of lightning blue sky behind them. Then I spotted a dark object between the lines. It was a black, upside down triangle, hovering in the sky some ways away.
I stared at it for a moment in confusion, then it struck me.
“It’s a UFO!” I blurted.
“No it’s not,” Jared retorted.
“Then what is it?” I asked, still staring at the object.
Jared didn’t have an answer. I thought about the possibility of it being something else. Could it be a plane? No. It was too geometric, too big, and too still. What about a kite? No. It was much too far away. I realized to see it from where I was, the object must be massive. If it were a kite, it would have to be bigger than a house.
Although I shouted my revelation loud enough for the whole bus to hear, nobody seemed to care or even acknowledge the object in the sky. Even Jared had lost interest. I made him move so I could sit next to the window.