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Last night I suddenly woke and sat straight up for I heard a piercing scream like that of a Banshee with her briefs in a twist.  I looked around, ready to confront the bellicose intruder, but the room was as quiet as the grave. Next to me Harper was sleeping undisturbed, not even moving in reaction to my sudden sit up. Perhaps Someone had stepped on a scorpion or was in trouble?  I went to west side and to the other room but he too was asleep in the deep. Idiot-like I walked quietly around the house for a few mintues looking for the source of the shriek.  Nothing.

Seasoned Spo-fans may be wondering if I thought it was Hendrik.  I haven’t sensed him in ages, and he has never been one to more than a slight groan.  Besides, this voice was definitely alto or above.  Think of the sonorous sound that comes forth from picking up an angry cat by the tail and you get the tessitura of it.

Like the little boy in the movie “Time Bandits” I am half tempted to go to bed tonight with a flashlight and cellphone on the ready to record if I should have a repeat performance.  Someone, always the more pragmatic of the two of us, suggests I ate something bad and should forget it.  Perhaps he is right.

After the scream and search it took time to return to sleep, not because I was scared but a bit dismayed there was no dead body or Stephen King type of person to allay my sense I had merely dreamt the whole thing.  Perhaps I had  had the neuronal equivalent to a fart that came out as an auditory hallucination.  This is sensible but highly disappointing indeed to conclude I was/am a bit balmy rather than the merely the recipient of a maleficent message.

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