The Story of a Mystery

A day like any other, I was reading a very interesting book about a boy with the Asperger syndrome. I had been reading for a couple of hours, so I needed a short rest. I led my steps towards the kitchen to drink some orange juice. Once I had the orange juice in a glass I drank a little sip. Afterwards I leaned against a table. Just in the moment of touching my backside with the table, I also felt like I was touching something that, at first, I thought it would be a bottle of water that I had forgotten to keep. Therefore, I turned around to see if I was right about the bottle. I wasn’t. I couldn’t be more wrong. There was nothing on the table. Nothing at all. Then, what had I touched?

I wish I could answer that question, but unfortunately I can not. Surprisingly, when I discovered that I couldn’t have touched nothing but just the table, I wasn’t scared. I took it as it was something natural. And maybe it was… or not, because I have no idea what it happened. Perhaps, there is a scientific explanation for this. Perhaps one of my back’s muscles was activated for some reason, creating the sensation of having been touched.

For example, when a cow or a donkey have a fly in some part of their body, where their tale can not reach to make it fly away, they simply move their muscles with sudden movements. It might be what it occurred in my case, though there was no fly or insect in my kitchen to activate anything, I can assure you that.

Whatever it was, it is a mystery to me nowadays, and probably it will be. Scientific explanations or not, that pretended “day like any other”, after that, was not like “any other”. It will be remember from now on, like “the day that I touched something and that something wasn’t there”.


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