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one morning i woke up and all my socks were odd, didn’t think anything of it, but the next morning when i woke up i was missing all my spoons so i couldn’t have breakfast, but again i didn’t think anything of it. on the 3rd morning however, things got really strange. i woke up, stretched, and immediately noticed the silence. not the normal peaceful kind—this was the “something is very wrong” kind. i walked into the kitchen and froze.

my fridge was gone.

not opened, not moved—gone. just a big square of empty floor where it used to stand, like it had quietly packed its bags and left in the night. and in its place was a single note, written in what looked suspiciously like ketchup:

“thanks for the hospitality. – sincerely, Mervi.”

at that point, i realised i should probably start thinking something of it.

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