Excerpt: Schrodinger's Knitters

I had just stuffed both yarn and needles into my messenger bag and was getting up to leave when Anoria stopped me.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, kid?” she asked, though she was watching the rest of the group out of the corner of her eye as she said it.

“Yeah, sure,” I said slowly, not sure why, after a few weeks of indifference towards my presence, she wanted to talk to me.

Anoria waited until everyone else had gone before turning her full attention to me. That was a bit startling, as the authoritative air that surrounded her was that much stronger at close range. Her expression was also unusually grave, and my first instinct was to wonder if I’d done something to tick her off.

“This might sound weird,” she began in all seriousness, “but are you feeling okay, kid?”

“Hollis,” I said automatically. Then my brain processed what she’d asked and I blinked. “What? Yeah, sure. I’m not sick or anything, if that’s what you mean.”

“You don’t feel off at all? Tired, or anxious, or anything?”

“Um, no?”

Anoria looked surprised. “Nothing at all?”

“No, I’m fine. Look, why is this important?” Her insistence was starting to annoy me.

“Huh. That’s weird.” She stood back and gave me a critical look, and I noticed that her sock-in-progress was still dangling from one hand.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” I said.

“Will you listen if I explain?” Anoria raised her eyebrows. “Even if it sounds crazy?”

I said nothing about the fact that what she’d already asked me seemed weird enough, and just shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You’ve got to take it seriously, kid.”

“Hollis.”

“Whatever. Did you know you’re dead?”

I blinked again and stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“You’re dead. At least, somewhere in the universe, you’re dead.”

“That’s not funny,” I informed her.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

I had to admit that she didn’t, but how could I take a statement like that seriously? After all, death is a pretty big thing to miss. You’d think you would notice if it had happened to you.