The Stairs and a Snail Got in the Way
Have you ever fallen down two flights of stairs?
If so, you know what it feels like the next morning. That was today for me. I woke up quickly, as if from a nightmare that I can't quite remember.
I am drenched in sweat and wide-eyed. I feel drugged but in a speedy way. I don't like it. Speed was never my thing.
I take a quick scan of my room but I get confused.
It can't be so.
It is.
The typical rub of the eyes and a deep breath does not change the scene. I am not in my bedroom. Where am I?
It looks to be a storage unit or a shed. A small one with nothing in it. The walls are metal. The floor is concrete mostly covered with a cheap square rug I was sleeping on.
The last thing I remember was quitting work for the day and leaving the building. I recall seeing a snail in front of the stairs I usually take. I noticed it at the last second and was able to keep from crunching it.
My step changed just enough and I hit the top stair wrong in the place where the stairs meet the tile. The metal piece was sticking up above the tile just enough to catch my shoe, throwing me off balance, then falling.
The smell of freshly baked bread is confusing me. It should be pleasant, but it makes me throw up in my mouth a little. What is happening?
I turn around and see a small red button on the floor just behind where my head was lying on the rug. I assume I am supposed to press it. I wish it was green, though, that would feel better somehow. The red feels wrong.
I consider my surroundings and reach for the button when I see a green button light up to my left. The light it creates gives me a happy sensation and I hit it immediately.
A door opens up on the ground, and down I go.
Falling endlessly. Never to hit the ground.
Stupid snail.