The rest of the week after that night out went by... well, certainly not in a blur. If anything, Sara was more than a little jumpy and alert, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or waiting to wake up to reality.
Of course, nothing that dramatic happened, if those could even be called dramatic. Life went on: she woke up each day, went to work, dealt with mundane bullshit, went home, ate, slept, wasted time on miscellaneous activities, not all necessarily in the same order each day.
She did, however, notice that she herself was a lot more jittery, jumping at the slightest of unexpected events. Yet paradoxically none of the people she regularly interacted noticed the change, or if they had they certainly acted no different. Even Kevin, who, admittedly unknowingly, started this chain of events, did not remark upon her changes in behavior at work. Chitchat about random trivia at length during those impromptu breaks.
As the day came and went, Sara began to question herself once again. Were those events on that night really the results of potentially supernatural forces, or merely a series of extremely unlikely coincidences? Did it even happen at all, or was it all just a dream? Wait a minute- the cum stains that she had to clean up the morning after certainly proved that something went down, but nothing exactly specific.
More maddening was the fact that outside of her memories (and the mess on the couch she had cleaned up) there wasn't anything in the way of tangible evidence: Nothing in even the local news, not a single whisper of gossip, not even any new urban legends. She had a few times considered going back to that gas station, but chickened out every time, out of cringe if nothing else.
She was not ready to relive those events, not even for a piece of mind. Or even finding out nothing had happened. It would be so embarrassing no matter what happened or happens, her mind would keep tabs if nothing else. That last part was the most important, even if the most invisible.
And on a Friday night those endless maddening thoughts and speculations chased endlessly in her mind as she laid on her couch, glad that the workweek was over, even if she managed to get even less work done than usual. Not to the point of missing deadlines or anything of course, but noticeable... or would have, under more normal circumstances.
But once again, no one noticed anything out of the ordinary.
She has to do something, something to prove to herself one way or the other. No matter how flimsy this 'proof' might be objectively, it would at least buy herself a peace of mind...
Or was that merely rationalization? The thought sent a shudder down her spine. She's not a pervert right? Not one of those degenerates that society looks down on...
But does that have to be the case? If she really has the power, then that means... Well, it certainly means that she should try... again? For the first time for real? Deja vu?
......
It was slightly easier this time around to make the first steps, if only because half of her mind refused to believe this isn't the first time. However, the body remembers, and the physical sensations of the elements on her exposed body had a lessened effect. It was a sign alright, but she dismissed the thought quickly, as it felt to be too much gasping for straws.
As before, the few who were around the parking lot paid little heed to the jittery naked woman, once again clad in only a pair of loafers and carrying a handbag, making her way to her car, choosing to see what they wanted to see, or believing that it's all part of something planned, a porn shoot or whatnot. Most simply didn't see much of anything, as the darkness had already made its mark on the still early night. Yet in Sara's mind the eyes of the world were watching her every move even as a loud voice within endlessly repeated the mantra that everything's normal, and there's nothing out of the ordinary to be seen.
Only when she got in her car and shut the door did the nerves settle down, and she reassessed her situation in a manner less influenced by her overworked imagination. With a sigh of relief she sank into the car seat, then started the car and began driving.
The plan was simple. Just doing a little grocery shopping at the supermarket, and as always, simple does not mean easy. Of course there's easier and less risky things to do before trying something this drastic, such as the generic 'greet the delivery person in the nude' dare type of thing. Trouble with that is that, for her, that doesn't really happen: with meal prep a few times a week, there wasn't really the need to eat out or order delivery. It wasn't even a matter of savings, just a matter of taste and comfort. Not to mention that as always it wouldn't prove anything given how common that type of dares are.
