Well, I got confirmation. (First posted to Livejournal to a limited audience, because I didn’t want anyone to panic…)
Nope, still no palette.
I started looking outside the room, in the bathroom, in my father’s office. My mind was going: I don’t understand. I didn’t move it from the room. My desk is so empty, and I’ve checked all the surfaces, all the drawers, and the closet, and this, and that, and etc. What am I not thinking of? Or is it the fairies? Why would the fairies hide it when I’m painting a fairy right now and just want to get back to work?
Outwardly, I said, “What the hell?” I gave up looking in my father’s office, and returned to my own.
TO SEE THE PAINT PALETTE ON MY DESK, OPEN, ITS BRIGHT COLOURS GLARING AT ME from the sea of birch that is my desk.
It had NOT been there before. I swear.
I stare and stare, and I sit down in my chair, and STARE some more. I do my self-checks: no heebie-jeebies whatsoever, the room is warm and my body is comfortable, my brain has been stunned into silence. Outside is this sense of curiousity, of how is she reacting? Inside, I get the strongest urge to laugh. So I do, and apologise for cussing, and while I welcome them I’m not sure how I feel about my art materials going missing, but what just happened was fine because… I’ve never been given such a physical sign of proof before (well, besides the plants around the house growing like crazy) and I do get that it was funny.
Of course, after the conversation, what I had to do next was get to work. So I did. And now I am again.