I think it’s time for him to go back into the storage unit. I’m staying in a studio type hotel room, and as I write this, Harold is behind me.
I had intended to keep him longer (he’s been with me for just a day or two ever a week now) and I’m feeling worn down. My head feels heavy on my neck, and my mind feels sluggish.
Last night, even though I didn’t dream of Harold, I could feel his presence in my dreams.
I’m really not feeling well. Now my stomach is suddenly starting to act up. My abdominal muscles are starting to cramp up.
I guess Harold knows.
The crazy thing is that I don’t think he can help himself. It’s almost as if he can “behave” only so long, then his true nature comes barreling through.