I have to write to someone about this peculiar day, and I know that you'll appreciate the irony of the situation in which I found myself, probably more than anyone else who knows me, since I've always been more frank with you than others about my total skepticism.

But I don't want to give it all away at the beginning, let me just tell you what happened. I needed something to do today, just to get me out of the house, where I've been spending entirely too much time alone. I wanted to go somewhere as soon as I got up, my first thought on waking was just to get out of here, but nothing opens until afternoon on Sundays, so I did laundry first.

While waiting on the last load, I came upstairs to get a book, and here's the first strange thing. A little clock radio was playing in the bedroom that I never use. Well, you remember that power surge that hit here while we were talking last night? That must have been the cause, though I don't know enough about electricity to see how a surge could turn on a radio. I have to say the thought of that radio playing all night with no one to listen to it gave me the creeps, for some reason. I turned it off and went quickly downstairs--without the book I had come after.

After that, my restlessness increased. I just HAD to get out of here. As soon as the last load finished in the washer, I got it started in the dryer , grabbed my keys, and almost ran out the door. A man was standing in front of my bedroom window. Just standing there, looking at the roof.

I was so surprised, I dropped my keys. "Uh, Hi," I said, while bending down to pick up the keys. When I looked up, he was gone. How long does it take to pick up keys? That quick, he was just gone.

Now, of course, I was afraid to leave, was suspicious of what this guy was up to. I came in to call the police, and I don't think that was overreacting, but the phone was dead. That scared the crap out of me, and right then I decided to leave anyway. I headed back toward the front door, when I saw him again, standing at the door, inside!

"What are you doing in here?" I yelled at him, my voice higher-pitched than I would have wished.

He only smiled and reached into his back pocket. I swear I thought he was going to pull out a gun or a knife. Time seemed to slow down, so that I had long minutes to build up a good stout fear of the pain and death that I knew was coming. At the same instant, the radio upstairs began blaring loudly. I must have literally jumped a foot.

Then I saw what he had in his hands.

Have you ever fainted? I always thought you'd know you were fainting, but it was more like a bad edit. I just found myself wondering why I was on the floor. It took a couple seconds for me to catch up, then I went cold all over as I remembered. I looked to the door, but he was gone. The radio no longer played upstairs.

Then, as I started to get up, I put my hand on it where it lay on the floor beside me, what he had pulled out of his pocket: a big handful of baloney, like I've been feeding you.