They weren’t there before I slept last night. I would have noticed for sure. The dusty shapes stood out in stark contrast on the otherwise pristine surface. Size 9 at a guess. Two sizes larger than my own. Two clearly defined footprints.
Why the hell were they on my ceiling?
This story earned an Honourable Mention, with a $10 prize, in the Mere 50 Words contest.
So how did the footprints get on the ceiling? And how do you come up with this idea and then put it into fifty words?
Also, I forgot to mention how much I liked this story. This in one of those stories that you don’t want to be done with but you know it has to end. What happens next?