20/09/17

The man lay in his king-sized bed. His beautiful partner was next to him, his spaniel lay across his feet. The man hated the dog being up on the bed: He detested the hair he had to clean, the weight on his legs, the lack of freedom to move in the bed- although, he thought, he did like the extra company. He was a man who truly relished being in the presence of others, he thrived on the positivity of others. He lay awake in bed. He had no reason to be awake, he had nothing he wished to reflect upon, he no negative feeling; he was perfectly happy. As he lay in bed gazing through the dark to the celling he started turing to his partner, instead of the warm embrace he expected- he found nothing. He neither felt cold nor warmth, he simply started falling. Or he felt like he was in free fall. After what felt like years of seeing colours no one has ever witnessed and feelings no one has ever felt his eyes opened. He was in bed. A dream, the man thought, nothing more. He turned to see his partner gone, he felt no weight on his legs from the dog. After a few moments of listening, and hearing not a single sound- except his own heart and at one point he thought he heard his blood running through his veins, he rose from the bed and fingered the light switch. The click click that came from the switch sounded muffled and no light was emitted from the bulb. He moved to his sitting room, still not hearing a single thing, except the slapping of his bare feet against the laminate floor, he concluded not even a single spec of dust was out of place. The man drew back the curtains and looked out the window. He saw a street with a row of street lights down a cycle path and only one light functional, the floor outside was wet from fresh rain and every house around looked completely empty with no sounds and no lights to be seen. He felt a draw to go outside. He down the stairs of his upstairs flat and rattled the handle for the front door. It was locked. The man turned around and saw the single light hanging at the top of the stairs, with no carpet on, it was lit up. He moved to the top of the stairs, where he kept the keys counting the steps as he went. 19. He noticed the light wasn't on anymore. Now the light at the bottom of the stairs was on, he moved towards it- one step at a time, counting as he went, 21. The man was about to try a key until he realised there wasn't a keyhole, nor was he holding anything. My door is unlocked. He opened the door to find nothing. There was absolutely nothing behind the door. Nor will there ever be if this is who I am. As he shut the door again he noticed red words on the back, he focused his eyes but the more he looked the more his vision blurred or the words did. He walked up the stairs, I started counting. 239 steps. There was only one door, he stepped inside. Blackness. Then he pulled the covers from over his eyes, he partner stood in the corner facing away, his dog stood in the corner facing away; on the celling. Neither had a face, he didn't know, but I know. They never did have. He, I, always wondered how they saw or if they ever did at all. The partner spoke in a cold voice, "Walk with me." over and over, she said it normally, then backwards. "walk with me." the man repeated. Then he opened his eyes. He was in bed. Alone. The man woke up alone, like normal. I woke up alone, like usual.