Gray Day...

If they had come in November she wondered how long it would have taken to notice them. 

They were silent so they might have been days. 

Though maybe the weight would have been noticed right away. That's what she felt. Weight. Like they were always pressing down on her. Heavy air around them. 

But the ships were gray like clouds. If they had come in November they could have hovered right above the clouds all winter and nobody on the ground would have noticed. 

Except, of course if you were flying and got above the clouds and then suddenly there they would be. 

But would the people on the ground have believed it?

Up there, above the clouds are hundreds of ships just hovering. The aliens have finally invaded. Trust us. We can see them even if you can't. 

No, she didn't think they would have believed. 

There were people right now who didn't believe they were there when all you had to do was look up and pay attention to how heavy everything felt. Like the made their own extra gravity waves.

Moving was difficult.

Breathing was difficult. 

Not seeing the sun was difficult.

Even for her. Born and raised in the Pacific Northwest. Going months at a time during the winter not seeing the sun. It was hard to lose it so completely. 

She realized then how much light they actually did get during those long winters. The clouds would lighten. The sky would get brighter. Even if it was darker than her friends in Southern California were used to, it was still a change. There was difference between day and night.

Now there was no difference. The only light they got was from the lights on the ships. And they kept those spotlights on all the time.

Now they lived inside, even when they were outside. That's what it felt like. 

Silent, hovering, gray ships beaming down their spotlights and their extra heavy air. 

Nobody knew what they wanted. They didn't interact at all. Just hovered. With their spotlights on. 

People made up stories about being visited by them, of seeing them leave their ships, of landing parties. But those stories all fell apart when they were looked into deeper. 

As far as anyone knew they can come in. Hundreds of them. Formed a dome over the Earth. Turned on their lights and just...

What? Waited? Waited for them to die out? Watched to see how they would respond? Was it some sort of science experiment? Or terra farming to turn this into a world they could inhabit? Or were they so far advanced, so far ahead of them on the evolutionary scale that they didn't even recognized them as a life form to pay attention to? Like building your house over an ant hill. You didn't ever recognize them as something to concern yourself with. Knew that the concrete in the foundation would prevent them from coming inside. 

Maybe the Earth was just the foundation of their new world. The linked ships were actually how they always lived. 

But what did the need from the Earth at all? 

There were groups that were already worshiping them. Had turned them into gods. Projecting a whole set of beliefs on them. If we do this, they will find favor with us. 

And there were groups literally projecting things on the ships. Using them as permanent screens. Art installations, advertising space. How can I make this profitable to me? Which she supposed was a religion just as much as the other was. 

As for her she just waited. 

It was getting colder and colder. At first there were gaps in their cover. Sun was still getting in. Cycles were still happening. But then they closed ranks. Extended docking stations (that's what she thought of them as, though her nephew called them links, like the flat pieces in a Lego set that you built on). After they completely closed off the sky the weather stopped cycling. The places that had still been getting rain stopped. There wasn't enough heat to generate clouds anymore. The oceans stilled. No winds. Their manually generated gravity was too strong for the moon to influence the tides anymore. Everything just stopped. 

Cold. Gray. Still. So heavy. 

She waited. 

Others prayed, to their old gods or to these new ones. They prayed for change. 

Others projected their wishes, or their anger, or their new product line to keep you warm, on the underbellies of the ships. 

Others just went about their lives as if nothing had changed. "If you don't pay attention to the negative then it's not negative!" or "You are doing exactly what THEY want you to. I won't be manipulated like that."

Some people found comfort in pretending they were all still fine. 

She found those people to be insufferable. She'd rather spend a day listening to the religious fanatics than the "you are choosing to be miserable about this" crowd. 

She wondered if they had come in November would anyone have even noticed?