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‘Jim…’, said the man. And then, contemplatively, ‘Jimmer….Jimmy Jim’. And finally, victorious now, ‘Jimmyest of the Jimmers, that’s me!. Then he giggled, this man, whose name was, quite possibly, Jim. Or, as he was better known to the community of Shervale, the drunkest of the drunk. Not that it had always been so.

Jim was once a man. That was Man, spelt with a capital M. ‘He went to uni you know’, they liked to say, down at the local watering hole, the Granville House. ‘A well respected gentleman. Had a career an all’, added another. Then they would scratch their heads and a beat later someone would say, ‘Not as that I can remember what it was he did’. And then the most important comment, something that could dominate a human being’s life, that could transform them, ‘Thing is….everything went tits when the poor fella’s wife went missing. He wasn’t the same after that’.

Pity and stupor had become the cycle of Jim’s life, the one - usually exhibited by the Brian the Granville bartender - resulting in the other, an all too drunk Jim.

A veritable human metal detector, Jim would spend the day eyeballing the streets for every piece of mislaid change. Come 5pm he would arrive punctually at the Grenville house and the ritual would commence.

Brian would open the door and receive one of Jim’s sunniest smiles. Walking smartly to his usual stool, Jim would plant himself down and then, on Brian’s return to the bar, the hands would go into the pockets and onto the bar counter, tumbling and clattering, went all of his coins.

Some hours later - usually by 10 - Jim would enter the phase of the evening when all communication by him - and there was quite alot - became a stream of consciousness. ‘A grand place this is….Oh I need a piss…. But the drink is so good, and the company so fine….Though I do miss Carrie… what a woman she was! Pity, then stupor, and finally, with Brian gently grabbing him by the arm and escorting him outside, pity again.

This night, like so many others, Jim was en route to the Share Bridge - the final part of the ritual - and an excellent sleeping spot. Five star accommodation reckoned Jim. ‘Jimbo, Jim Jim, Jimeeeeeeeee’, he gassed.

Brought to a standstill at last - his mind questing for the next piece of word play - Jim’s eyes caught the shape of something huge and grey, hovering in the distance, a few fields away. The game, momentarily forgotten, he stepped closer to the bridge edge, and squinted.

‘It’s like a saucer….but massive’, Jim thought. ‘Like the ones Carrie used to put cups on, when we had visitors’.

Jim stepped back. It looked like the saucer was starting to move in his direction. Drunk as he was, Jim still knew fear. It was speeding up now, hurtling across the fields without sound. Enough was enough. He would have to get Brian, that one point of dependable compassion in his life. Brian would know what to do. Turning, Jim ambled back the way he had come.

Seconds later, with his back turned, Jim Covill did not realise that the saucer had arrived at its destination, twenty metres above his head. Following a click and a small bzzz sound, a yellow light rushed from the craft, descending downwards and engulfing Jim. Caught in an invisible grip, Jim kicked and punched for all he was worth. A moment later, his feet were off the ground.

As his body was propelled skyward towards the black belly of the craft, Jim’s mind had time for one final memory of his wife. ‘You’ll always be Jim to me’, she had said, caressing his cheek. ‘Just Jim is good enough for me’.

(Hoping to return to this at some point and deliver the other two points of view - sometimes the story just comes rushing out, and you’re left exhausted by the end)

Three different people

Too much alcohol - Jim - has too much to drink and ends up by a river where he sees the ship in the sky

The end of a relationship - Leia - Terry cheats on her - sees the ship on television

A child - Ash - sees a creature outside

What is the inciting incident - the arrival of a spaceship, shown on television