Once, a long time ago (approximately three years ago), a light bulb went out.
This particular light bulb was in a sconce in the hallway. A sconce that had a little, screw-in thingy that held it up. A little, screw-in thingy that somehow escaped the Husband's fingers as he un-screwed it and then disappeared.
It literally disappeared. We scoured the hallway. We moved the bookcase. We moved the buffet. When it didn't turn up, we branched out. We scoured the intersecting hallway, the staircase, the floor below, that little, screw-in thingy was GONE.
So we headed out to our local home improvement store in search of another screw-in thingy to anchor the sconce to the wall. We found one. But, of course, the new screw-in thingy's finish didn't match the finish of the old screw-in thingy's. *sigh*
As a compromise, we switched out the un-matching screw-in thingy with another fixture; one that I wouldn't see on a daily basis - because the whole un-matching thing would have made me twitchy. Seriously.
We had fully expected to find that piece in our move. It didn't happen. Where in the hell had it gone? Was there a tear in the universe? Had it somehow slipped into an alternate universe?
Flash-forward (approximately three years or so; and a whole move later) - guess what I found the other day?
The screw-in thingy. And the eerie part? In a Stephen King book.
*cue the scary music here*
In a Stephen King book that was amazing that I even kept - despite my adoration for Stephen King. Why? Because I normally don't "do" short stories. I usually want "whole" stories. But, I adore Stephen King so every single one of his books made the cut.
Including the one that has held the screw-in thingy for the past three years.
I suppose this is supposed to "tell me something." Like maybe how what seems to be lost isn't really gone? It's only hiding away, waiting for the right time to reappear.
Nah. More likely - it was just one of those weird things that happen in life.