It was a quiet in the small town of Barnhill. Folks had just started turning in from the evening celebrations. It had been an excellent harvest and everyone was in high spirits so the mayor had decided to put on a festival to celebrate.
Tom, his wife and children who were 8 and 10 were heading home in their cramped sedan. The children had both won a large stuffed animal for shooting the target. Tom smiled as he recalled the moment the attendent realized his children were skilled marksmen.
Tom stretched and failed to suppress a yawn, as he opened his eyes back up he saw a faint light in the distance.
“Huh it must be a cloudy night” he thought to himself, attributing the glow to a cloud dusted moon.
As he watched the light quickly grew brighter and brighter until Tom was forced to pull over onto the side of the road as he was unable to see.
He had to shield his eyes from the intense glare as it grew so bright it seemed as if the sun itself was flying low over the road. He felt gravel under his tires and braked firmly, careful not to go into a skid, but also well aware that there was a ditch, and he couldn't see how close it was.
Fortunately, the car came to a stop safely, and as soon as it did, the light vanished. Tom blinked as his eyes tried to re-adjust to the dim glow of the occasional street lights. He looked around at his family with fatherly concern, and as they slowly came back into focus, he noticed something wasn't right.