"And there, in the dust of an untrodden path, lay the truth," proclaimed the self-appointed extraterrestrial tour guide, as the locals gathered in somber disbelief. The stars were never this bright in their own backyards, but perhaps that was the point.
In the great mystery of the cosmos, illuminated solely by the silver reflection of a dubious moon, mankind had finally managed to receive a transmission of their own making— an echo of footsteps on a foreign shore.
Yet, what if these footprints belonged to the very beings they’d sought to enlighten? Footprints. Illusive, ambiguous, and yet here they were haunting the wet sands. The irony was palpable.
At the center of this extraterrestrial symposium was the question all might ponder: "Shall we follow these footprints or get lost in our light?" A question echoing far beyond the fringes of cosmic irony.
But alas, the aliens and their sodium lamps glowed with a false promise. "Follow us," they whispered, or was it more a commanding shout, lost in translation through the great lightbulb of the sky?