The next morning was Saturday. Linda Madison sat at the kitchen table and poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down with the morning paper.
It wasn't long before her youngest son, Mikey, scampered into the room. He was wearing a pair of pajama bottoms with feet, and had pulled off the top.
She sighed. "Mikey, sweetie, how many times have I told you about running around without a shirt on?"
"Sorry, Mommy," he said, but not going to fix it. He instead reached for cereal and milk and poured himself a bowl of Choco-Puffs.
"Where are your brother and sister?"
"Still asleep," he said, shrugging. "I'm gonna watch cartoons."
Neither of them noticed the small gray cloud drifting in through the kitchen window, and heading toward them until it surrounded them, making the room as if it were filled with fog.
It felt as if the cloud were charged with electricity, as the hair over both their bodies stood on end.
"Mommy, what's happening?" Mikey said.
"I don't know, sweetie," she said. "But...maybe we should get out of here..."
They tried, but discovered that they could barely move. They were stuck. Linda rose to her feet somehow, standing on the opposite side of the table from her son, but that was it...her feet felt rooted at that spot.
