MicroHorror

It can’t see me, but it’s going to find me. It can’t hear me, but it’s going to find me. It can’t do anything except stagger around the room, waving its arms and crashing into the furniture, but it’s going to find me.

As for me, I’m stuck here. I can’t move at all. I’ve got a perfect vantage point, though, and I can see everything it does. Sometimes it gets close, very close, before it wanders off in some other direction, but it can’t keep this up forever. Sooner or later it’s going to get lucky and find me.

And I’ll be thrilled when it does, because I’ve got nothing to do under this desk but wait until my body finally picks me up and puts me back on its severed neck-stump where I belong.