I woke up and everything was upside down. That’s not to say that in front of me was an image that had been turned over, but rather that each individual thing was upside down relative to the things around it somehow. I tried to right myself and realized I was not only already righted, but mid stride in a sprint. I suddenly felt the sensation of speed, but time was somewhere else, maybe having a smoke.
My foot contacted the ground and fled behind me as my other foot came back to the front and followed. A shelved wall full of ornate stuff was approaching, and I found myself in tune with my thoughts. I knew that I could sent a message to my legs to stop, and I could feel how long that message would take to coarse through my body and reach my legs. For one reason or another, I decided not to send the message; ornate stuff be damned.
As I made contact with the wall, a porcelain clown was what was nearest to my face. He just sat there, looking sad and upside down. Sad clowns never made much sense to me.
Crashing through, I lost my sense of being in tune with everything and regained a familiar time frame. Also, I stepped on some ornate piece of junk, sprained an ankle, and tumbled to the ground, pounding my head into a nearby car.
Lying on a concrete driveway with my ankle throbbing and my head split, I felt eyes on me. Glancing back at the doorway I just created, I saw a hoard of people in fancy dress staring back at me.
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