Ralph and the Pixie

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something moving about, something that was almost indistinguishable from the shadows.

Was it a warning? Or was it prophecy?

The words echoed in his mind like a litany of doom uttered by a madman or a murderer, and he was unable to recall whether the words were his own, or if he had heard them somewhere. Looking about, as though wondering where his courage and hope had fled, he spotted a door standing open. Instinctively he moved towards it, stepped inside, and locked it.

The home was empty. Without even considering that he was rummaging through someone else’s belongings, he began searching for warmer clothing. Going into the bedroom closet, he found a heavy wool cloak, leather breeches and boots, and donned them. They were much too large, but something of their size and weight he found oddly comforting.

There was food on the counter and on the kitchen table. Going to the hall closet, he found a small rucksack. Then, returning to the kitchen, he packed as much food as he could find. There was no thought or planning in his activities. He was going through what to him seemed to be little more than a purely imperative sequence of motions. As he left, however, he paused in the doorway, mentally thanking whoever had lived in the domicile. Then, he passed through the entryway, and began making his way towards the Library once more.