You touch the screen of your book, but quickly forget the novel sensation as your attention is drawn to the nape of your neck. The all-too-familiar feeling originating there informs you of another body part–the eyes–but those which rightfully belong to another. You address yourself in the second person saying, ‘You know this room is empty,’ but remain at the sensational level, unconvinced. Without turning around you attempt to construct the features surrounding these eyes, but you can only see the back of a head. You feel in your neck either an intensified gaze or a perspectival enlargement of the eyes, as if they are moving closer to you. Likewise, the back of the head which watches you seems to decrease in size as it approaches. As this distance shrinks–as the eyes grow larger, the head smaller–you become certain of the presence you would wish to dismiss. At the final moment before contact you move your finger with a shudder and continue reading.