A Little Spooky.

THERE ARE SOME ODD SOUNDS, ODD HAPPENINGS IN MY
APARTMENT THIS MORNING. NOT THE FIRST TIME.
x
Coming out of the kitchen, balancing my oatmeal bowl
on the small yellow tray, I pay close attention to Milo,
the cat, who is having a flying fit. He generally crosses
my path a few times as I walk to the bedroom,
where I have my breakfast every morning, so
I must pay attention not to stumble. Which I have done,
without oatmeal, and Milo cries when I'm hurt. It is
plaintive and sadder than my tears. His amazing
soul is then thoroughly exposed as my mate.
x
We were passing that ordinary corner, before the
bedroom door, where Milo sometimes pauses to stare,
as cats sometimes do, at an empty space. Today he
almost skidded to a stop, looked upwards, because he
too heard the distinct sound of a cello, one note
only, perhaps a "G".
x
I stopped for a second, then put my tray down on this
desk, this very place, the center of computerland,
bloggyville, my full life's destination. How the hell did
that happen? Anyway, sitting down, reaching for
the white napkin..it's gone. Compulsive me, back to
the kitchen..has to be there because I use it to pick up
the bowl to place on the tray. Not there. Foolishly think
I'll find it under the desk. Why waste a new one? Cello
corner is neutral. I pass it by. Something says my name.
Milo's on the windowsill, can't be a witness to ectoplasmic
hi jinks. I reassure the air that they'd be better off to
stop hanging out in my apartment and just go to heaven!
x
No napkin on the desk or under the desk. I'm not going
to retrace my footsteps again. Some things that fall to
the floor under my desk disappear into another dimension,
stay for about a year. Like the gold earring I dropped,
searched with practically klieg lights shining on the floor.
It popped back into the world about a year later, nestled
near my tapping toe.
x
A napkin shouldn't vanish. An earring, maybe.
Could be some wraith wants to play dress up.
But what use is a napkin? Unless to be draped
in ghostly fashion so that the cellist can just say "boo".