I found this one rather interesting...
: As he leaves a café, a strange trick of the light occurs; in the reflection of a window, he thinks he sees several pale women dancing on air. His heart skips a beat, and he shudders involuntarily. Without thinking, he begins to run, muttering under his breath like a sleepwalker: "You'll not take him, too. He's all I have left; you took them all. But you'll not take him." He speaks even less than usual that evening.
: It's like cold water down the spine, neither fear nor anger precisely but something between, confused, paralysing. Years playing at confidence tricks have trained him to pretend that he hadn't heard that certain phrase, said in that certain way, to pretend that the friendly hand on his shoulder that had followed hadn't made him want to jump out of his skin. But he manages. He pretends. Like always.
: He debates what to do with the dog for a very long time, all the while standing and staring vacantly at the poor beast. Eventually, giving into his softer side, he attempts to bring the dog home... and it abruptly runs away
. Sighing, he walks back to his apartment, only to find that the dog has followed him home. He curses under his breath and lets it in before him.
Your character is confronted with an irrefutable fact that challenges the very foundation of their worldview. How do they handle this new development?