“I feed on your thoughts.” A dark room resonates with a calm voice. “I feed on your thousands of thoughts. The conscious, the unconscious…. those you prefer not share. Oh those are my favorite ones.”
I sitting up in bed. I startle the wife and two cats go flying to parts unknown.
My heart pounds. My breath in a place I can’t find. My chest heavy. My ears tired. My mind twisted like a skein of old yarn. Fog hangs.
I search for the voice. It hides. Was it even there? What does ‘I feed on. Your thoughts mean’? I’m told go to sleep or leave the room.
I turn to my side. Twin shadows split. They have faces with smiles. In a dark room, I still see this clearly.
“We feed on your thoughts. We like the one with that person you see on the way to work. Oh, does she know what you want to do? She’s smiles back and look down. Then checks to see where your eyes are, or where you had them. How many times has she busted you holding on to certain things. And you just smile back.” The voice splits to two voices.
I think of her. I shut her out. She’s back. Her smile warns me. I see her with glowing hair. I lose myself in her.
I flash back. I never thought of her like that. Maybe a little. But I never wondered about how those… Ok, maybe I did. But did I linger too long?
Why am I doing this?
“We feed on your thoughts!” The voices are insistent. The sound deeper. “You know what we need!”
She is back. Another look. There’s more of her each time. She is more inviting. Tempting. My heart races. My mind records every I choose. Flesh that may never have seen the sun, peeled like a juicy fruit.
My sleep stops. My dark room still dark. The shadows stir again. I hear noises of the night. It’s ghostly quiet.
My wife giggles. Soft whisper like sound sides through the darkness. “I’m not supposed to do that. Maybe…”
I sit up again. Three shadows dance. Faces flush with joy.
I know. I know what they feed on. But hire do I get rid of them. Do I want to get rid of them?