A Star Falls
by Lisette Alonso
You don't expect him to be beautiful. You don't expect him at all, but still he waltzes down on a beam of light that shoots from a spaceship disguised as the night sky, striations of indigo reflected on its hull, periwinkle brushstrokes mimicking the cirrus clouds.
This alien looks like he should be an actor. He is a heartthrob. If you were thirteen instead of thirty-five, you'd have glossy magazine pinups of him papering your bedroom walls. You look at him and it makes you think of cascading waterfalls, the sun setting on a calm ocean, fawns frolicking in a forest clearing. You are already so lucky just to be able to glimpse him. How more than human he seems. His delicate cheek bones. His long tapered fingers. Just enough facial hair to look rugged but not unkempt.