“Where’s that tin foil?” My heart rose to my throat and cracked the words before I could get them all out. The smithereens mixed with the echoes banging against my brain.
It struck at the oddest time.
“Mom, I got rid of it.” Her unvoiced thought drowned the hubbub long enough for me to hear: “I have to get her into a home.” My frenzied search for aluminium only confirmed her perception of my mental state.
She never heard the sickening drumming thoughts, never felt the waves of feelings.
Never understood how a tin foil hat staved off the crisis.
This story was written based on this prompt.