Astral Projecting?

Steven has been restless of late, tossing in his sleep. We are in a change of seasons and the heater kicks on, the room is hot and dry. I have not been sleeping deeply although I do rest.

Last night between the clock tolling two and three I heard footsteps in the kitchen. This is not unusual. Chris has reverted to his infancy with feedings every 2 to 4 hours. Better he sneak into the refrigerator for some milk, a sausage, a leftover dumpling then wrap himself around an empty belly. This has become a comforting noise, these footsteps in the dark. Besides growing he is growing more independent.

After the shuffling, the scarfing I heard footsteps crossover from linoleum to hard wood. He was coming in my room which is unusual. I can't remember the last time one of the children actually came for me in the night. I turned over and propped myself on my elbows.

"What is it Chris? What do you need?" I asked the silent shadow.

He didn't say a word but my eyes, accustomed to the dim, could make out that he was facing me. As I watched him the light changed until it seemed he was in a column of light, actually a different timbre of darkness, like a beam from a black light. He raised his arms at an angle from his body with his palms cupped upward as he made three quarters of a turn. The light began to shimmer like dust motes in a sunbeam only larger. His chin was tilted up and the sparkles distinct and rectangular, like metallic confetti.

"Chris?" I asked and he turned his head slowly toward me and just as slowly a wide grin spread across his face, his eyes and mine locked. He lowered his arms and dissipated.