As you hover over the ominous-looking button labeled “Escape,” you hear footsteps upstairs. Your mind races: there’s a burglar in the house! You grab a conveniently-placed baseball bat and a thick book titled Anansi Boys (by Neil Gaiman) and slowly creep up the stairs. The footsteps are coming from your bedroom. You push open the door as quietly as you can and tip-toe into the room. Your breath burns in your chest. The murmur of small voices, almost child-like, come from inside your closet.
You push open the closet, bat at the ready, but… there’s nothing there. You squint and just catch tiny shoes disappearing into a hole at the bottom of your closet. That’s never been there before, has it? You don’t remember it, certainly.