It

Every person has one. No one that I know has ever seen their own, nor that of anyone else for that matter. It is always there, just out of sight, but, rest assured it is there just the same.  One can look and search diligently and never find it, never plainly see it, never know exactly what it looks like. Yet, it shows a minute shadow of itself at the moment one least suspects it.



For me, it is always on my right side, small, wispy, shadowy, behind my back. Lurking, hiding and peeking. Just waiting to make that sudden movement when I am concentrating on another important "something" that has my attention. It appears just within the limits of my outer peripheral vision. It is as if I only "almost" see something. It has that nasty habit of jumping out just for a split second, diverting my attention, and then right back into hiding just as my eyes quickly dart to the right to see it more clearly.



  But, only to find nothing is there once again. Other people  that I have shared this phenomenon with, my friends of course, have nearly all agreed with hushed voices full of confidence since they are sharing this with another who has the same recurring experiences. Many of them have vehemently, and often quite proudly, declared that their very own appears on the the right as well. Some say it happens only on the left, but, it is a true and well known fact that it only ever shows itself on one side of a person throughout their whole life.



I have never heard of anyone who claims to have two of them, or that it, or both, appear on either side of them. Many people are acutely aware of this but will not talk about it except to the very best of their friends in whom they know they can confide.





Could it be an Angel of some sort? Thinking of my luck lately it might not necessarily be a good Angel. Besides, good Angels are always white and I only see a dark shadow of something. Could it be some sort of evil lurking and waiting for just the right moment? 

Also, it could easily be an elf or a Leprechaun, since I know I have some of that enchanting Irish blood in me. Then again, a troll, like the one under that bridge who ate the billy goats that I read about in that my childhood books. Maybe even the grim reaper savoring the anticipation of an event that surely will come one day.



I give a little involuntary shudder as the thought of looking into those faceless, iridescent, eyes of green and red, smouldering and glaring out of the darkness from under that hood. I can almost smell the putrid breath of that rancid and sinister figure as it laughingly lurches away again to gradually fade from my view until it vanishes in a strange, surreal, slowly swirling mist of grayish green color. I somehow sense that his plans are to come back again another day. He is relishing the moment of just the sheer enjoyment he will get simply startling me again.



Will the next time be just another friendly visit or the deadly serious one?  I become irritated with myself and jerk my mind back to my previous train of thought. Quite possibly it may be that this thing is the driving force behind the stupid, crazy, spontaneous things I often do just to get laughs from my friends?  I suddenly have an image of myself attempting a wild jump with a backward flip on my bicycle only to feel sudden jarring pain, hear a thump and the sound of my leg bones breaking.



  I grimace at the memory, then shrug it off.  My limp is barely noticeable now and hair covers most of the jagged red cranial scar. Now my right eye sometimes makes strange movements when I become stressed. It normally looks slightly up and out at an odd angle. Just enough so that I often catch people staring at it.



I just have to see what that is!  For a while I do weird and crazy antics of suddenly snapping my eyes and head around. Then my whole body just as fast as I can. I jump, turn in mid air and search wildly in every direction. My dog Winston sits and tilts his head to one side as he watches his master suddenly begin acting so weird.



Gone, it is always gone, no matter how quick I look around. I am getting tired of this.., this image.., that always startles me as it catches me off balance and unaware.., Hmnn.., wait.., after all these years I am still here. It must be something good. Something

that protects me and keeps me out of danger. I remember all those close calls and afterwards friends telling me how lucky I am to be alive.



Or.., it could just be a figment of my imagination that thrives on tricking me from time to time. In some ways it has now become comforting to know that it is always there...and it belongs to me alone! Maybe tomorrow it will stumble and I will catch it...