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If you have a floating kitchen island, you know the feeling. When you’re waiting for something, you just seem to gravitate towards it. You circle it. And while you do so, you will slowly develop the feeling that you’re being watched. That someone, or something, is following you. You try to shake it off. Tell yourself you’re being silly. But it’s still there, making the hair on the nape of your neck stand up.
And you’re right. Something is following you. It has no name, no gender, no age. Those little details don’t matter to it. Who you are doesn’t matter either. All that matters is that it is hungry. But it is also patient. It can wait for you to turn around.
Because one day, the feeling will get to be too much. You will turn to reassure yourself that there is nothing there, and then you will be gone. Forgotten. As if you never existed in the first place. Just like me. But you don’t have to believe me. You can just turn around the next time you get that feeling and prove it for yourself.
(This is my first pasta, inspired by that creepy feeling I get when I walk around my kitchen island. Constructive criticism is welcome!)