Truth, for each of us, is unique.

Folks will probably say I shouldn't believe in such nonsense. But I swear I talked to an alien under an oak tree yesterday.

I happened upon him during my morning walk. He was short and dumpy, much like the drawings of aliens in some cartoons, yet certainly more handsome and less insect-looking than ET. He was staring up at the branches, muttering to himself. As I moved in closer, I heard him counting. "Four thousand eight hundred sixteen, four thousand eight hundred seventeen, four thousand eight hundred eighteen..."

"Excuse me," I said.

"Four thousand eight hundred—Darn. That always happens. And I was on the last branch."

"What are you counting?"

"Leaves, of course."

"Why?"

He turned, fiddled with his antenna and seemed to gape at me with beady, bulging eyes. "That's the problem with humans," he said. "They never count the leaves."

This being my first encounter with an alien, I have to admit I was taken aback by his abrupt remark. When I didn't respond, he stepped forward. "I'll wager you don't even count stars."

I glanced toward my feet. "Uh...well, no."

He made a noise that I supposed was an alien chuckle, a kind of a snort that sounded more like a fart than a laugh. Then, with a finger as long as my foot, he pointed at me. "Those who count the things that matter cannot be bothered with things that don't."

"Yes, Sir," I said.

Who's going to argue with an alien?