Sunday Afternoon


It’s Sunday and I have overslept. The clock shows 12:30 pm. I sit upon my bed frowning, cross with myself for waking up late again. I vaguely remember curling on the bed trying to sleep and then nothing.The wall opposite my bed is blurry in my myopic eyes, nevertheless it looks different. I slip my glasses up my nose and I see scratches all over the wall as if an animal had clawed it. The cream paint has peeled off in most places, the scratches are deep, and my Star Wars poster is ripped. I am speechless. I look about myself shocked and afraid, I realize that I am unhurt.

How could this happen when I was asleep in this very room?

I had shut and locked the door, nobody, or no thing could enter that way.

I turn to the window to check if something had come in through grill.

‘That is unlikely’, I tell myself.

I draw the curtains and I feel the strong rays of the afternoon sun on my face. As I stand looking outside, a sudden darkness invades the sky, the blue sky turns black, the sun vanishes, and stars break out from underneath purple clouds; their lustre cold and piercing. A shred of the waning moon appears, yellow and sickly. How can noon turn into night in an instant? What is happening?

My eyes fall on the the bottle of my favourite pills on the bedside table. My hand moves of its own accord towards the bottle, it unscrews the cap and pops a pill into my mouth. I savour the taste, and fall on my bed closing my eyes in ecstasy.



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