There was a creeping sensation that I wasn't alone. I fell asleep listening to the latest Jack Reacher novel. The vibrant, deep voice of Dick Hill narrating always causes me to fall asleep fast. When listening, I knew to set an 8-minute timer for automatic shutoff on my phone and rarely do I experience the cutoff. This way, I don't wake having gone through the whole book and gotten a crappy night of subliminal messaging. Yeah. I wasn't alone.
"Breathe man. It's just this old house creaking." I told myself.
But no. There was some other energy roaming about. The light was different, a dark orange or reddish purple tint was layered on the wall. It wasn't even a clean gradient like you might create in Photoshop yet it was mildly perceptible. Was it shaped?
The shadow was more of an imagining than my experience allows me to describe. They seemed like shapes not patterns - but what words do you use to describe something you've never seen before. You could try simile and say it's like the shadow cast by a tree in the afternoon sun. But it wasn't boney like a tree might appear in winter - and it didn't have rustling foliage like a late spring afternoon as the wind starts to pick up.
I think it was a parallel me - a me watching myself - wanting to be noticed but not mentioned. What's the shape of me?