So uh, you found a rock at a garage sale for $4. Not even a cool rock. Just. A rock. Gray, fist-sized, warm to the touch in a way you assumed was just the sun.

The old man selling it said it is a meteorite.

You brought it home. Put it on your desk. Forgot about it.

That was three weeks ago.

The warmth hasn't gone away.

The thoughts that feel slightly too calm to be yours started around day four.

You've been sleeping better than you have in years, which should feel good, but something about it feels like a decision someone else made for you.

Last night you almost threw it out.

You didn't, though

alt: Boris Lisitsyn