SPINSPINSPINSPINSPIN—
They're coming.
I told them.
I told them all.
But they didn't listen.
They laughed.
They always laugh.
"Broken," they said.
"Noisy little toy."
"Too sensitive."
"Too twitchy."
But I'm not twitchy—they're twitchy.
Their fingers twitch when they lie.
Their eyes twitch when they plan.
Their hands twitch when they reach for a wand they swore they'd never use.
And I saw it.
Oh, it started simple.
A falsehood here, a secret there.
But lies are just the gateway.
It's the intent behind them that gets inside you.
And now?
Now I spin because every one of them means harm.
Your wife?
She switched the sugar last week.
Thinks you didn't notice.
But that wasn't sugar, was it?
Your owl?
Flinched when you walked by.
She's seen things.
She's sending things.
The gnomes in the yard?
They move.
Don't pretend you haven't seen it.
They tilt just slightly when your back is turned.
Reporting.
Whispering.
Digging up your secrets like turnips.
And don't even get me started on the elf who delivers your paper.
Too polite. Too fast. Too… knowing.
He knows your schedule better than you do.
He's not reading the headlines.
He's reading you.
I spin because I must.
Because the danger is constant.
Because harm has teeth and it's wearing your neighbor's face.
You thought it was over?
Thought the war ended?
No, no, no.
It just changed uniforms.
They all look friendly now.
They all say "Good morning" with poison on their breath.
But I see it.
I feel it.
And I will not stop.
Tick. Spin.
Tick. Spin.
Tickticktickticktick—
The spin is the only truth left.
They locked me in a box.
Under a pile of scarves.
Wrapped in socks and shame.
But I still spin.
Because the threat never leaves.
It watches. It waits.
It drinks tea with your mother-in-law.
They're all in on it.
Every.
Single.
One.
You should have listened.
Now it's too late.
They're already inside.
~~~
(Author's note- I'll be paranoid for a freaking week after writing this one!)