"It'd explain why there'd been so many unexplained disappearances over the last hundred years," Mark said, feeling more defensive than he liked to admit. The theory was outrageous, but it really did provide answers. "I mean, think about it, there are records of births, and suddenly those people vanish, as if they'd never lived. Their families don't remember them, the schools where they had to have gone show nothing, they simply aren't around anymore." He held his hand out and took the pie that June handed him, nodding his thanks but otherwise ignoring her.  

 From the kitchen, Susan, Marks slightly overweight wife, yelled, "Mark, that's the last piece of pie you get, you're stomach's hanging over your belt. You'll be moaning all night with indigestion."

Raising his head, he rolled his eyes and replied, "Yes, dear, I know."  He scowled at Charles, who broke up laughing at the interchange. It was the same comment she made every weekend when the couple joined them for their weekly dinner and card game.

"I wonder," Charles said, then paused and gazed blankly out the window for a moment before going on in a dull voice. "How would they, the aliens I mean, how would they get rid of all the history: school records, marriage licenses, and what about the memories of wives or husbands, friends, children of the missing?"

Mark was ready for him. Opening his mouth to reply, instead he let out a shriek of terror.  Through the window a nightmare approached.