translated by: Julia Mraczny
FRANK WAS ALREADY drunk, but not enough not to notice the aliens had visited him again.
Their flying saucer hovered tunelessly above him.
The farmer raised his flask. He drank the rest of the vodka and tossed the empty bottle, then mumbled:
—Even though I walk down a dark street, I will not fear Josh!
He felt strangely light and noticed that he was slowly floating above the road.
—Well, aliens, you are darlings—he grinned.—You have made me a fly guy!
After a while, he was overcome by fear, floating several metres above the ground.
—Er, gentlemen, I’m afraid of heights!
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