I sat down firmly, my chest heaving from the encounter. The way he looked at me…geez, was the guy mentally unhinged or something?

I shuddered and turned away from the table, my back to the huge expanse of my living room.

I couldn’t continue writing my play. It was too difficult. The characters seemed like dead weights at my hands – I couldn’t lob around their personalities and make it seem realistic.

How did he get in here?

My stomach lurched when I thought about the way he had left.

No, there had been no cloud of glittering smoke, or a puff to accompany his exit.

He had just gone. One minute he was standing there, the other, he wasn’t.

I clenched my fist, the skin around my knuckles turning a deathly white.

Now, be logical, Pat. There’s no such thing as superpowers. Maybe you’ve just had a long day. Yeah, that’s it, a long day.

Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about where he could have entered from. There was absolutely no way to enter.

That night, I slept with all the lights on.