What The Left Hand Was Doing

In a modest brick building tucked into a lower‑middle‑class neighborhood of Arlington, Virginia, the Society for Mystical and Metaphysical Research hides behind a deliberately goofy façade. To the outside world it looks like a harmless curiosity shop, but inside it serves as the headquarters for a secretive group that studies the fringe edges of reality. Spencer Candron, a nondescript man of average height and unremarkable style, walks through its ornate iron‑balustraded entrance every morning, his outward ordinariness masking a mind that thrives on the extraordinary.

The day begins with a familiar exchange at the reception desk, where Mrs. Jesser, the eager secretary, shares the latest buzz: a visitor claimed to possess three‑dimensional, full‑color photographs of a UFO control room and even its pilots. Candron listens with a mix of skepticism and curiosity, aware that such claims could either be another hoax or the spark of a genuine breakthrough. As the society prepares for the mysterious guest’s return, the thin line between the mundane and the uncanny starts to blur.