A glimpse out of the corner of my eye caused me to leap off of the jump seat. I banged my head on the metal rack above me and cursed when I reached up and felt blood. Even after that commotion, I could see it—a blue glow moving slowly, almost beckoning me. I grabbed an oily work rag and held it to my head as I followed the light. It was bouncing along the narrow corridor, the passageway lights blinking along its path. I heard the ship’s whistle but focused solely on the mesmerizing object I followed. No one was supposed to be here—I had expected to be alone. Maybe one of the crew was participating in some of the evil pranks I had heard so much about. I was gaining on the light, then it stopped and I grabbed for it. I reached out with such vigor that my whole body went over when I missed. I fell into a mirror mounted on the wall at the turn of the hallway. It didn’t break, but I cut my hand on an unseen mount. Switching the rag between my head and my hand, I stumbled into the darkened break room. Lights flipped on and a dozen people shouted, “Happy Birthday!”.

 
Karen Hydock