Ubo

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Every resident had a similar memory of the journey here: a dream of dry, chitinous wings crossing the moon, the gigantic insects so like roaches or cicadas dropping swiftly over the houses of the neighborhood, and then hooking him with a spur through the base of the thumb, yanking him out of his life for a trip into the distant stars. They all had that same impossible recollection, some sort of shared nightmare or mass hallucination. Each had passed out or had suffered some gap in memory, although many were lucky enough to have gone to bed or nodded off reading or watching television. For some there was a vague recollection that a window had been left open or forced open from the outside, or in a few cases the walls of the house or apartment had actually dissolved, providing easy access for their kidnapping.

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