Reptilians

I met my friend's husband at a flea market. I don't remember why I went there. Such places can attract even those who are in a hurry and just walk by.

Flea markets are a special kind of trade. They don’t sell things here, and even more - they don’t sell products.

They sell history here. And history, like any woman of mature age, requires close attention. Therefore, the dust of time attracts all kinds of romantics, outcasts and practicing witches.

The friend's husband didn't look like a practicing witch in any way. For this he was too lazy and, moreover, a good opinion of himself. In this market, he felt the heightened importance of his person, because he could say a couple of vague phrases in a mixture of Buddhist dialect, sprinkled with terms from astrology, multiplied by feng shui.

“Listen,” he said to me. - When was the last time you saw my wife?

- Not too long ago, like yesterday, - I answered honestly.

- That was not my wife! I know my wife! the man blurted out. I stared at him curiously and sniffed. It didn’t look like he was mad.

- Who was it?

- Have you heard of reptilians?

- What?

- In short, so you’d understand. My wife was lying on the couch, I looked at her - and she does not have the same curve of the spine at all. I even took a centimeter and measured her back. And vague doubts crept into me. I asked - who are you, woman?

- And she answered - Wouldn't you go to ... the kitchen, - I said kindly.

The man did not appreciate the message.

- Here you are smiling, but you don’t understand that reptilians roam around us. Ordinary people are possessed, and then they are led.

- So, your wife is a reptilian?

- Certainly. She used to be cheerful, care about me. And now - she looks so thoughtfully at me, studies me ...

- Is she licking you?

- Not yet

- Lucky.

- You don't believe me?

- I believe you! Because she's so hardworking. An ordinary woman is not capable of doing all this work for twelve hours every day. I would have died a long time ago if it weren’t for the alien creature inside me, I suggested.

- That's what I'm talking about! Aliens are among us!

- And where is this reptilian now? Does she study flora, fauna and works in the garden? This is understandable, reptilians love weeds. Potatoes, lettuce...

- I think they are omnivorous.

- Why hasn't she eaten you yet? - I got curious.

- Afraid to get exposed. She needs to live undercover somehow, - the man suggested.

“Yes, and it’s also good to have a strategic reserve for the winter,” I muttered, surveying the round tummy of my friend’s husband.

- What reserve?

- Do not pay attention. When the time comes, you will know...

- I'm thinking of going somewhere for a month.

- Yes, go before the end of the summer, otherwise you will need not only to plant potatoes, but also to weed, hill up. And then the harvest comes, - I offered my advice.

The man looked at me suspiciously.

- Why are you so kind? You always said I was lazy.

- That's what I said before. When I was an ordinary woman, I answered. - But when something reptilian moved into me, I immediately changed my beliefs. I think that a lean man is not as tasty as a well-fed, fat man. We Reptilians are belly-gods when it comes to food....

The man looked at me suspiciously, moved away, and quickly got lost among the flea market stands.

I took out my phone.

“Listen,” I said, when I heard the voice of my friend, “you somehow must try not to expose yourself when you communicate with your husband. Hide the third eyelid, do not wave your tail in front of his nose so often. He already began to suspect something.

The friend was silent for a while, then in a soft polite voice she clarified where this lazy brute was.

I did not ask again whom she had in mind and honestly handed over the coordinates of her overly observant spouse.

- Cut off his exits if he tries to escape the flea market, okay? I’ll pay you back.

I promised her to fulfill the request.

After all, we, reptilians, do not abandon our own…