It didn’t take too long to get home.
People in town were driving like maniacs. Nobody was obeying traffic signals or even making sense on the road in general.
There were overclocking engines and crashing noises coming from the intersection between me and the back road home as I left the store parking lot, so I opted to get onto the interstate and loop around.
Figured there might be less insanity where there were fewer crossings.
I was right. As a matter of fact, everything on the big highway looked like any normal day.
It was a relief to just merge on, travel the few exits home, and then exit off. I made my way to the house, then, and everything was seemingly fine there. The neighborhood was quiet, and the street was empty.
I walked into the house, dropped my keys on the table, and shucked my pants to jump into the shower. As I scrubbed and shampooed, I suddenly noticed a dampening-down of energy. It was as if my whole body had been unplugged. The batteries had gone dead. I positively drooped as I toweled off and put on my bathrobe.
I picked up my peepee pants to take them to the laundry room. A small thud sounded from the fuzzy bath mat underfoot. I stopped and looked.
It was the little black rock.
Sighing, I picked it up. As soon as I touched it, the electric fence feeling returned, in spades.
With it came the high pitched sound that I’d first heard on the bench at the supermarket.
While I’d been in the shower, the sound had been missing.
While I’d been without the rock.
I set the rock on the counter and stepped back a couple of feet. The sound stopped. The electricity stopped. My energy dropped.
I picked it up. Sound, electric, energy returned.
All the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand on end at that point.
Somebody knocked on the front door and I about jumped out of my skin.