I shook my head and focused on breathing.
In and out. Over my lips and down my throat. Filling my lungs, and then being expelled again.
And that's when I noticed something very, very interesting. I noticed a slight twitching in my forearms.
I opened my eyes.
The twitching had turned into something more than twitching. My arm was spasming. The feeling wasn't uncomfortable, though. Almost as if I were receiving a gentle massage that somehow was stimulating my muscles. A gentle shock therapy.
I watched my arm curiously.
Interestingly, with each jerk of my muscles, the point of the pen moved as well, making small little squiggly lines on the page. Meaningless lines. Nothing more than chicken scratches.
My arm quit jerking, and I had a very, very strange sense that something had settled into it, somehow. Something had melded with my arm.
The chicken scratches stopped. Everything stopped.
There was a pause.
And then my arm tingled again and my muscles sort of jerked to life and I watched, utterly fascinated, as the pen in front of me, held by own hand, began making weird circles.
Circle after circle after circle. Big circles. Little circles. Tight, hard circles. Loose, light circles. Sloppy circles, perfect circles.
Quickly, the circles filled the entire page. When there wasn't much room left at all, my hand grew quiet.
Using my other hand, I tore out the page out, revealing a fresh one beneath.
My arm jerked immediately, tingling, and the pen wrote again, but this time not with circles.