Some recent writing...

 This takes place in the middle of the narrative as I am looking at my reflection in the glass of a restaurant.   This is a part of an older story that I wanted to incorporate into this current narrative.  I still believe my older writings were practice for the writing that is occurring now.  The person I call F. Keebler is not the cause of the phenomena that I write about here, but certainly a sinister, manipulative element that may have been a catalyst for me to manifest it.....

I'm still nonexistent to my old friends, family and to most of society. I'm lower than....

Then it happened. A blur in the reflection of the glass suddenly swarmed over my own reflection. I suddenly felt nausea and vertigo watching as my reflection was engulfed. There was a giggle and I turned my head to see who was emitting such a sinister gleeful sound but saw no one. When I turned to look at my reflection again, the blur jumped away and disappeared into the wall and mortar. I felt a tug in my lower intestines as the blur vanished. There was something removed from me because there was an empty feeling now in my guts. It was more than hunger because suddenly the burrito in my hand no longer had any appeal. Nor did the aqua fresca. There was definitely something missing from my viscera and I was afraid that if I took a bite of food or took a sip from my beverage, there would be no stomach for it to digest in.

That reflection of a blur took something from me! I've sensed it before, waiting and watching me. I thought it was simply being awake too long. A sketchy hallucination. A physiological response to lack of sleep. But now it seems to be manifesting a corporeality. It is getting stronger. It is learning how to take what it needs instead of passively absorbing it.

“C'mon Steven...” F. Keebler was ready to turn on Polk Street. Nice of him to wait for me. I could have caught up to him at Jesse's place. I wondered how long he had been watching me look at my reflection. I wondered if he knew what I was experiencing. I usually feel ignored by F. Keebler and wanted to keep this new phenomena to myself. I don't think Keebler is responsible for it. He is incapable of thinking deeply and I did not want to discuss what I just experienced with him. I  hoped my expression did not give anything away. Interesting that he chose at that moment to call out to me. It is as though he sensed my distraction and felt threatened that he would not get my full attention.

I shook myself off internally and put my thoughts in the place I put them when I need to hide them from others, but easily accessible for me to review later. I turned away from the dark glass and walked towards F. Kebbler, the grinning Deamon Imp.