I shoved it in the back of my waist band, covering it with my shirt before cautiously making my way to the living room. My heart pounded with sudden panic… I had to hide the spoon. “Hello, anyone home?” a woman’s voice called from the front room. I just needed for it to be safe and then I could let it go. I was holding on to it until I found out what it meant and where it came from, that’s all. I tried my best to convince myself it was perfectly normal. Other than my pocket, it didn’t seem to fit anywhere. I couldn’t leave it in a drawer or throw it away without it calling to me. The only thing that resembled any proof at all was the wooden spoon. I had been over tired, over worked, I was better now. I felt great, certain it had all been in my head. There had been no voices, no professor, no machine in my closet. I had convinced myself nothing had happened. Each object resting in place was another step closer to normal life until I had reached the point of disbelief.īy Friday of the next week I was right as rain, all was good with the world. It took me three whole days… morning, noon and night to put my house back in order.
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