Mesmerism

I was awakened one night

from a sound sleep

and dreams I have since forgotten

by a humming noise in my bedroom.

A low humming noise

and a bright green light

shining out from the bottom of my closet door.

Something in my bedroom closet

was shining bright green,

bright green and humming as well.

And I was half-asleep still,

so I wasn’t afraid.

I wasn’t afraid, just curious, confused.

Mostly confused.

So I got up out of my bed,

stood up and walked around some piles of laundry,

a bit unsteadily, still drowsy,

walked over to my closet and opened the door.

And what I saw there,

what I saw in my bedroom closet,

I didn’t know what I was looking at.

It was a machine of some kind,

made of a dull silver metal,

floating in the air,

just above my shoe rack,

just floating there with that humming sound,

a bright green light in the center of it,

and it had silver tentacle arms

that curled in the air,

poised to strike,

like angry snakes.

And I didn’t know what this thing was,

or where it came from,

or how it improbably appeared in my bedroom closet,

but I felt this strong urge,

this absolute need,

this desperate desire

to touch it.

And I reached out a shaking hand,

reached out my trembling hand

to this machine,

this little machine that seemed angry somehow,

a compulsion I could not understand or control,

and I touched it.

I lightly grazed the light green light at its center.

Then it vanished.

I felt very sick then,

a wave of nausea washed over me,

and something inside me felt like it exploded.

Before my eyes,

little white pinpricks of light appeared,

and I sank to the floor.

The room was spinning for a moment,

before everything faded to black.

I woke up several hours later

on the floor in front of my bedroom closet.

I felt fine

but had an intense craving for pancakes.