The alarm buzzed, shattering my sleep. 6 a.m. already? I groaned, rolled out of bed, and headed to the bathroom.
Something caught my eye. I saw my shadow dart away from me and head for the open bedroom door. I rubbed my eyes. Nah, no way. But when I looked again, sure enough, there it was, my wayward shadow halfway out the door.
I screamed. He paused, looked at me, then continued on his way.
He slipped out the door, and I followed him down the hallway a few steps behind.
The shadow entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. Is he hungry?
Another shadow stepped out of the fridge and reached for my shadow’s hand.
What the…! I pinched my arm to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. Ouch!
Shadows don’t live in refrigerators. Shadows don’t detach from their physical bodies. But there they were. Two distinct shadows, with no bodies, holding hands like lovers do.
My shadow leaned towards the fridge shadow, and they kissed!
“Shadow, come here!” I shouted, but he didn’t hear me. Or he ignored me. Either way, both shadows scurried into the living room and dissolved right through the closed front door. Like they were going out on a date or something.
Crazy!
I looked down at my bare feet, where my shadow should be attached. My faithful friend, always at my side, perfectly mimicking my every move without question or complaint.
But there was no shadow now. Only me, standing alone.
I hoped I hadn’t done something to scare him off or make him mad. What am I saying? It’s a shadow, not a person. He can’t have feelings or emotions. He can’t get mad.
Maybe I’m the one who is mad.
I’m calling in sick to work and going back to bed. When I wake up, I know my shadow had better be back where he’s supposed to be. At my side, like always.
If not, then surely I am going mad.
