He was strapped down in what resembled a dentist’s chair. Everything was silent. This had to be a bad dream — food poisoning. ‘I’ll never eat...leftover chicken salad again.’ From behind the chair stepped a small, gray man, about four feet tall, just like the ones he’d seen on the grocery store tabloid covers. The little guy had a balloon shaped head with bug eyes. His arms were thin and didn’t appear to have joints. They squirmed like tentacles. His hands consisted of tiny, round palms with. The fuzzy, soft pink sweater was in my hand in a flash and before I knew what I was doing, I was holding it up to my chest and the skirt to my waist and I knew I had to do it. I had to do it all the way.I threw the sweater and skirt out of the closet towards her bed and got on my knees. Her heels were spread all over. But I found the ones I wanted, the black pumps with the t-strap she wore on dates sometimes. I tried to squeeze it on my foot. It fit, barely, and it pinched my toes, but I didn’t. More

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