Murray was a fat, little boy who had a great imagination. He was the favorite victim of the older boys at school. Murray was often pummeled. The boys took his lunch money and called him names. Murray’s only sanctuary was his imagination. He could always dream about revenge. He could imagine he had the power to make his enemies suffer the way he suffered. Murray realized his dreams could never come true – they were just fantasies – so when the sky turned red one spring evening and the silver cloud descended like a wall of buzzing insects, Murray had a leap of faith that something truly unusual was occurring that would change everything. He was not the only person who witnessed the cloud which hung in the sky like a giant, luminous locust. Winds roiled and rain spattered the clapboard buildings in the small city where Murray lived. The cloud looked vaguely anthropomorphic like some sort of sky Genie. People were racing through the streets in panic, but Murray stood his ground and faced the giant cloud. From the corner of his eye he saw some of the boys who taunted him, cowering in fear. Murray was stalwart. The cloud was ominous with flashes of lightning and thunder that rolled out of the misshapen maw near the head of the apparition. Something clicked in Murray’s brain, a connection. The boy understood. The cloud was alive and wanted to communicate with Murray. This was no fantasy. Murray realized that this was an invasion, extraterrestrials had found Earth. Murray had a vision of the outcome. It wasn’t what he wished, but it was inevitable. Earth and all humanity would be destroyed.