short story

When i was a teen-ager, I wrote a science-fiction story about Leonardo da Vinci. In it, a young art historian becomes fascinated with Leonardo's otherwordly paintings, with their strange rocky backgrounds, unplaceable landscpaes, and enigmatic not-quite-human saints, their single fingers forever pointing straightly upward. to make a long, and rather shamelessly, rod Serlingish, story short, the art historian eventually discovers, in a previously unknown codex, that Leonardo WAS an alien, that the rocks were the lanscape of his native planet, and that the fingers were pointing longingly back home...

This discovery was fascinating but at the same time scary. Knowing that scientists went on day after day researching the same things and not finding any evidence, yet me, a regular girl, having all the evidence and possibly the greatest discovery in the world was overwhelming. now, I had two options: i could not tell anyone and just continue through life, or i could find a way to prove my discovery and possibly become the world's next Darwin. After a long period of thinking, i decided to share my knowledge with the world... it took 60 years after my discovery before it was accepted into the world of science; however, even though i was 75 at the time, i was given credit and the next space expedition to attempt to find Leonardo's long lost home, was named after me. That expedition and many more were complete and epic failures. I died soon after so I will never know what ever ended up happening, or if the aliens came and destroyed the earth.