In the end, Elsie decided to set up an experiment—after all she did have a Ph.D. in science.

 

After her final appeal to her husband and two teenaged children to tidy up, the objects were left in place and she reckoned the days.

 

In the kitchen there was the finished cereal packet on the breakfast bar and the empty milk carton on the drainer. The cat's food bowl was left unfilled in its spot in the hall—though she did provide the animal with water. The pièce de résistance was the old boot just inside the main door into the house.

 

Two weeks later the rest of the household had continued in its easy, oblivious passage through domestic life, but Elsie was an uncontrolled fission pile heading for melt down.

 

Of course, somebody had tripped over the old boot—presumably cursed it—and then left it in its new, and just as inconvenient resting place.

 

The only one that had noticed anything was the cat. This animal showed initiative, being a female non-sentient species. She had introduced the household to a variety of small birds and mice. This wasn't so unusual, and therefore, created irritation, but not enlightenment.

 

However, eating the playmates wasn't part of her normal game plan and this behavioral change was noted by Sussi, Elsie's vegetarian daughter. "Yuk, that's so gross Mitzy!" she said, whilst looking at the still twitching feather in her favorite cutie's mouth. "Mom we have a little carnivore in the house!"

 

To which her brother replied, "You catch on quickly sis."

 

This led a deteriorating banter and the usual stomping off and slamming of Sussi's bedroom door.

 

Things came to a head when her husband indirectly noticed the empty milk carton. "Elsie, I think there is some rather ripe cheese in the fridge, perhaps we should chuck it out?"

 

She proffered the offending milk carton directly under his nose and raised her eyebrows, then nodded towards the sink.

 

"Sorry," he said, looking down shamefully.

 

She shouted with high-volume authority, "Steve, Sussi please can you come to the kitchen."

 

Elsie braced herself, standing with hands on hips, her voice dropped both in pitch and volume, an effect that sent a ripple of shudders through her gathered family. "You just don't look, do you!"

 

Nobody was brave enough to make eye contact with her.

 

She picked up the empty cereal packet and brandished it in her hand as if she was conducting an orchestra. Every morning, you've walked past this and ignored it."

 

She looked at them, satisfied there was another tremor passing through their collective consciousness, and she could see genuine fear in her son's gaze. But then his eyes looked for support from his father and sister, avoiding hers. He muttered, "Dad, I trashed it at least a day ago!"

 

Elsie looked at her husband, his fear had turned to panic, a look she hadn't seen since the early days of their relationship, when she had threatened to dump him.

 

"Elsie," he said, very carefully and deliberately, "there's nothing in your hand."

 

She slammed the packet down on the breakfast bar and the loud crack made then all jump.

 

"Really, nothing?"

 

"That must have hurt Mom," Sussi said, with the sympathetic voice she normally reserved for the cat.

 

Her husband stood up and approached the cereal packet. "Nothing here, look!" He wafted his hand towards the packet. The packet jumped rapidly in the air, avoiding contact.

 

Elsie scientific brain started to engage. "It's dodging you," she simply said.

 

"Right Mom," Sussi said, and nodded her head firmly whilst looking very deliberately at her brother and father.

 

Her husband checked his watch repeatedly and said, "It's time for school and work, I'll give you kids a lift, if you like."

 

"Sure," the teenagers responded in unison.

 

It was Elsie's turn to be shocked. That those three would willingly share a car together, and especially for a school drop-off, was completely beyond her experience. The kids liked their Dad, but not so much they would be prepared to drop the cool factor in front of their peers.

 

They weren't seeing the cereal packet.

 

As they rapidly exited the kitchen Elsie inspected her hand. She had felt no pain, and there was no mark to suggest violent contact with the stone breakfast bar. Her scientific brain continued to come back online. She returned to inspect the cereal packet.

 

The wholesome woman on the front, whose body Elsie coveted, yawned, and moved into a standing position. The packet rapidly expanded in size and the woman's image started to distort. The transformation stopped and the result, whilst still having a vaguely feminine air, was not at all human.

 

"The males and pubescents of the species are such bad lookers, aren't they," it said.

 

Elsie nodded dumbly in agreement.

 

"You're a trained astronomer," the creature said. "Would you fancy doing a bit of observing for us? Get you out of here."

 

"Perhaps…but there's no observatory close by."

 

"Oh, sorry, I should have said, it's our observatory by Tau Ceti."

 

The number of light years started to ratchet up in her head. "They'll miss me."

 

"Really…" the creature said transforming again, this time into a copy of Elsie.

 

The image wasn't wholly convincing, it had a slight ghostly feel to it and it flickered occasionally. "I don't think this will work," she said.

 

"Oh, but it will…we've been monitoring their attention levels closely. And the food and laundry can take care of themselves."

 

The fridge door opened and a selection of food items paraded before her in a colorful flotilla. Soon a meal was preparing itself. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the laundry basket marching toward the washing machine.

 

Elsie thought about the physical encounter with her husband due the coming weekend. He would notice then, surely… "Can we be back by the weekend?"

 

Her image paused and rocked its head around. "Yeah, I think we can fix that."

 

"You've got a deal!"

​