My grandfather never talked about strange things.
He was quiet, practical, and serious. He did not like fantasy, ghosts, aliens, or anything he could not explain.
One evening, while we were sitting outside, he suddenly pointed at the sky and said, “They are back.”
I looked up and saw two orange lights moving above the hills. They moved slowly at first, then crossed paths without changing speed. After that, they both shot upward and disappeared.
I asked him what he meant by “back.”
He became quiet and said he had seen the same lights when he was young, before I was born. He said several people in his village saw them too, but nobody wanted to talk about it after that night.
I asked him what he thought they were.
He said, “Not ours.”
Then he went inside and never spoke about it again.