"THE POWERFUL APPEAL OF THE PARANORMAL"

I believe in everything that is paranormal. But instead, everything normal makes me feel uneasy. I don't know, I do not trust normal. I consider myself a paranormal entity. You will say: "What you are is a monstrosity." Okay, that's fine with me... as long as it's a paranormal monstrosity. Normality is such a boring thing ... Look at my work, for example. A normal work, like everyone else's. Everything is always the same again and again, everything so predictable. Well, except for the time that crazy man broke into the office. Ha, ha, ha! That was a paranormal event! I will never forget. We were all typing letters, as in all offices of Manhattan. The letters need to be typed, you know, and that's what the office workers are for: to please the damned letters! Sorry, that's my bad temper. Everyone says it: Henry has a bad temper. Damn, how can I not have bad temper if normality overwhelms me! It surpasses me! If at least once in a while some paranormal phenomenon would happen ...! I do not know: a poltergeist, a psychophony, a diabolical possession ... Ha, ha, ha, if from time to time Miss Frabers began to turn her head 360 degrees at full speed! Then you would see what my true temper is! But Miss Frabers is so predictable ... Quite the opposite of that crazy man, that paranormal guy who broke into the office one day! Oh, that was a milestone in the annals of bureaucracy! Imagine the scene: everyone typing sleepily when the door slammed open and a barefoot man appears in his pajamas. "And my bed?" He shouts with a stupor face. And we with the same face: "What bed?" "What bed?! My bed! The bed in which I sleep!" And then Miss Frabers leaves her room in a fury:" What's wrong? What are these shouts? " "It's just this man”, I say, “he has lost his bed”. And she then looks at the man in pajamas and squeaks. "Are you the head of the gang?", he ask her. "What gang?" "Don't play dumb! I have seen how my bed flew out and entered through that window”, and points to the wide window that overlooks the 44th Street. "But do you realize how stupid you are saying?" she counterattacks. "Give me back my bed!", he insists increasingly red as if he was going to explode, "I'm sleepy!". "Henry, do something, this man is crazy!" she tells me. And then I get up and have a stellar performance: "You're right, good man," I say, "a little while ago a bed has entered through that window. But he left immediately." "Ah, damn bed!", he shouts shaking his fist," it have escaped again!". And turning to me: Where has it gone?" “Towards the park" I respond. And launching curses, the madman leaves the office slamming the door.
I wish paranormal things like this happened more often! They have such powerful appeal!

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