I thought I'd share a short story I wrote to a picture prompt recently. It's a time of year in which lots of people go shopping...why would aliens be any different?

When the aliens landed in my garden on Sunday November 1, 2026, I asked, “Do you want to meet our leader?”

“Your leader?” the lime green alien said. “No mate, we want to go shopping.”

Of course, that wasn’t the first thing to happen. The first thing was when I looked out my window to see a gigantic Granny Smith apple.

I was getting to grips with an outsize fruit squashing my early daffodils when the apple split open and two aliens, one blue and one green, descended a flight of steps projecting from a shining white interior. Both aliens had six-pack abs, muscled legs, not a scrap of clothing, and they headed straight for my front door. In two strides they were through my iceberg roses, which I did a very nice job of pruning over winter.

Might aliens have ray guns? They do in movies. I thought, if they’ve got ray guns, they’ll shoot the door down. I might as well let them in. So, I opened the door and that’s when I asked the aliens about wanting to meet our leader, although I don’t know why anyone would want to meet David Seymour, particularly anyone of a different race.

The aliens smelled faintly sweet, like cinnamon. Blue held out a small black box in the palm of their delicate, long-fingered hand with bright yellow nails. Green opened their mouth, made a faint whistling sound, then the box talked. “Kia ora. We like shopping.”

“Shopping. I can help with that.” I’ve never been averse to a spot, or a whole day, of shopping. “How about a cup of tea and a biscuit beforehand? Or coffee? Though I’ve only got instant.”

Green said, “Shopping, then kai. Ka pai, mate.”

I brushed my hair, put on my favourite boots and a jersey because, although it was sunny, there was a fresh dusting of snow above the Queenstown gondola. We followed my usual visitor tour to town – along the lake shore and through the Botanical Gardens. When I pointed out the monkey puzzle tree, Blue asked, “Where are the cats and dogs, bro?”

“We don’t keep animals in public gardens, only plants,” I replied. "Though there are lots of dog walkers.”

I worried someone would make a fuss about aliens and next minute we’d hear sirens, see flashing lights, then be surrounded by square-shouldered police in flak jackets. However, all we got were a few surprised looks and a young lad yelling, “Epic costume.” No one commented on Blue and Green’s state of undress.

I was tossing up between going to the Nurse Maude second hand store and Global Culture but, when we turned the corner into Queenstown Mall, Blue looked in the window of Louis Vuitton.Their big slanty eyes went round and soft. “Hannnnddddbbbbagggsss,” Blue purred.

After significant deliberation, Blue bought a half-backpack, half-handbag in brown leather. Green bought an orange flip-top bag with a gold chain and gold LV clasp. They insisted I got something too, so I chose a hot pink bandoulière. Three thousand dollars, what a crazy price, but you don’t get aliens buying you gifts every day of the week.

We wandered up the Mall, bags in hand. Blue and Green slowed beside an opera-singing busker in a skin-tight gold lamé dress and Venetian mask. A young woman with a camera lens longer than her tattooed forearm turned from the busker and blinked? “Can I take a picture?”

“Snap away, mate,” Green said.

By the time the photographer finished taking shots from every angle, Blue’s shoulders were drooping and their face was grey; Green said, “Time for kai, mate.”

Caramel and vanilla scents were wafting out Cookie Time’s door, but I knew I didn’t need the calories. “Let’s go home. Food is ridiculously expensive in town."

Back at my place, I asked, “How about sandwiches? I could do toasted cheese with pineapple.”

“Cat, bro.” Blue said.

“We will go to our room and rest,” Green said, narrowing their eyes at Blue.

I made a nice ham and lettuce sandwich then put my feet up in my La-Z-Boy; hosting aliens was tiring. Next thing, I heard a knock on the door. It was Clarisse from 63. “Have you seen Bobby? I’ve been calling everywhere. He always comes for dinner.” Bobby is a standoffish Siamese with whom I’ve tried to make friends by secretly feeding him bacon.

Franco from 64 yelled across the road. “I don’t know where Cally is, either.” Cally is a Jack Russell whose enthusiasm for life is unbounded. If I’m feeling down, I pop over to Franco’s with ginger crunch as an excuse to visit Cally.

Two missing pets in one afternoon? I wondered if the Granny Smith might have anything to do with the situation and looked out my window to see what Blue and Green were up to. However, the Granny Smith was gone.

“Where did you get that bandoulière?” Clarisse asked.

“Visitors,” I replied.

Clarisse raised her eyebrows. But what more could I say? I didn’t want Clarisse thinking I see aliens in the garden.

On Monday, fifty-three Granny Smiths touched down in central Queenstown. The rest you know.