The Upside Down Fellow

I squeezed back inside because the dark got too big. Up on the kitchen table, a large metal spoon was resting next to a white bowl. It was very shiny. I leaned over the smooth back of the spoon. Inside the silver curve, a tiny corn fellow was staring right back at me. But his feet were pointing up at the ceiling. His head was at the bottom. That made no sense. I reached out to touch his face. My arm twitched too hard. The syringe on my head popped off and clattered onto the wood beside the bowl. A tiny green drop hissed against a crumb. I did not get mad. I waved at the spoon fellow. He waved upside down.