I decided to have a peanut butter sandwich. I got out the bread, Stroehmann, of course, placed it on the bounty, got a knife from the drawer, spread the Skippy over the bread, covering up all the white.

I slapped another fresh white slice on top. Got milk from the fridge, turned around and my sandwich was gone.

How odd, I was alone in the house, everyone was at school or work. I looked on the floor. Nope not there. Where could my peanut butter sandwich have gone?

Oh well, I’ll make another.

I could feel someone,or something staring at me, something invisible but tangible.