This constant and persistent 'Put the hamster in the microwave' could not get out of my head. Again and again and again the same sentence: This other me wouldn't leave me alone until I snuck into Emma's room and took the golden brown hamster out of its cage. My mother and sister were sitting in the living room watching one of those crazy daily soaps.

In the kitchen, I carefully put the hamster in the microwave and closed the door. The hamster tried to climb up the glass of the door with his little paws, but to no avail. The voice in my head did not give a single moment's rest and then whispered to me:

"Now turn up the microwave knob full blast and watch what happens, Buddy."

I watched the little hamster as it tried in vain to get out of there. Was it scared? Did it know what I was supposed to do? Slowly, with a trembling hand, I reached for the control. In my head I heard this permanent: "Do it. Do it. Turn it up full blast and watch the little hamster burst. We're going to love it ...

(...)