The dark shape slipped across the floor.
I saw it clearly, yet without form. It was around the size of a cat and moved in a swift stalking motion. I turned, fully expecting to see one of my two cats, but there was nothing there. No cats. No further movements. No hint of what I had seen.
I turned away to see if the movement would return, perhaps it was just the light bending at the edge of my contacts, perhaps it was just a shadow running in from the open doorway, but, again, there was nothing there. I looked back to the spot on the floor and frowned.
Three options, that’s what I came up with in that moment. One, I had seen something that was moving between worlds, here for an instant and then gone again on whatever errand or chase or adventure it pursued. Two, my lack of consistent sleep had finally started to catch up to me and my mind was playing tricks on me as a not-so-subtle warning that it was starting to slip. Or three, my over-active imagination was running rampant again.
Of the choices, I am most comfortable with it being my imagination and least comfortable with it being a warning from my brain that I need more sleep. I suspect, however, that it was in fact a playful spirit running through the room.
Because that is what I want it to be.
Because it isn’t the first time I’ve seen it.
Because that makes the better story.
And you, faithful kingdomites, what do you think? Which of the options do you think is most likely? Do you have a Christmas Spirit story to share?