Did That Really Just Happened?

Sitting in my dining room at the table writing Christmas cards; during my vacation where I am suppose to be in Fort Lauderdale, Florida right now, but I ran out of money; with the Postal Service playing in the background; and enjoying the quiet time to myself; a black solid object propels to my chest.

I blinked.

::blink:: ::blink::

Pausing at my task, I raised my head and looked around at my apartment.

Living room…nothing.  Oh wait, there’s my cat pitter-pattering across the room.  Nah…

Dining room…no one.

Kitchen…not a single soul.

Raising my left brow and dropping my jaw slightly, I took a short breath.  I started to say something but I stopped.

I double checked to see if the three other chairs at the table were occupied.  Nope.  I’m not seeing things.

“Did that really just happened?” I said out loud.

There was no one to answer me.  My cat, now laying on the couch ignored my words.  Not like he knows what is going on anyways.

“Seriously, did that really just happened?” I said out loud again, still in disbelief at what happened.

I picked up the pen in my hand and examined it.  Nothing out of the ordinary but yet…

Half the pen was missing.  The tip is now retracted back into the barrel.  As for the end of the pen, the clicker as most would describe it, is gone.

I looked on the floor and gave myself a blank stare.  Still confused, I looked through the boxes behind me to no avail.  And there was nothing under the table either.  I stood up and went to the other side of the dining room and found it.  It was almost in the living room.

I picked up the clicker and examined it.

It was just a pen clicker.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

I sat back down in my seat and reassembled my pen.

::click::  ::click::

Works fine.  There’s nothing wrong with it.

Confused and confuzzled as ever, I moved my left arm to just under my right shoulder where the collar bone is located.  I still felt it.  I still felt the pressure and shock of the impact.

“Did that really just happened?” I said once again, “Did my pen really just shoot at me?”

I started to chuckle knowing that I’m still alive after the failed BIC assassination attempt.  Shaking my head lightly as I started to return to writing my Christmas cards, I said to myself, “Man, too bad no one saw that because it really did just happen.”

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