II.
Luke went to bed as soon as he got home the night before. He didn’t eat
dinner or take a shower.
The alarm clock woke him up. But he didn’t want to open his eyes. His
sheets were cold from sweating out the fever during the night.
“What the hell?” Luke heard. He opened his eyes wide. “What the fuck is
this?”
He looked over and saw his right arm raised.
“Where the hell am I?” the voice asked.
It was coming from his right hand. A white sock was attached to it, with
long strands of brown yarn glued to the top. His arm moved on its own,
swaying back and forth as if surveying the room. The brown yarn flopped
around with each movement.
The arm twisted, so the hand faced Luke. He could still feel his arm but
could not control it.
“Who the fuck are you?” the sock puppet asked.
“What the—” was all Luke could get out.
“The fuck, right?” the puppet asked.
The white sock had big glued-on eyes, yarn hair, and a small crown of
thorns on top. Luke knew who it was supposed to be.
“Jesus?” Luke muttered.