Dray wakes up with the message light on his mobile phone flashing redly in his eyes. He rolls over on his futon, reaches out into the cold, and pulls it under the covers, flicks it open. Time is 11:00, 2 hours ‘til work. Checks the last message, sees it’s from his girlfriend, and plays it back.
It’s not what he expects. Her voice is frantic and she sounds terrified. “Dray,” she cries, connection hissing fuzzily. “Dray, you have to get here, I’m going crazy, there’s a, argh! (thudding booms), man at the door, remember I told you, he’s trying to get in and there’s no-one answering anywhere and everything is a mess and I don’t understand and Dray you have to-”
The message cuts out. It is dated at 2 hours ago. He cycles through the phone’s menu and tries to call her, but there is no signal. He throws the covers aside, cold air forgotten, and tries again, pacing in the darkness. No signal. He tries another number, the Japanese teacher at his school, but still no signal.
He curses. Tosses the phone back onto the futon, throws the bedroom sliding doors open and hits the kitchen light switch. But there is no light switch. He fumbles along the wall but cannot feel it. Curses again, strides to the window and throws it wide open.
It’s not what he expects. His room is in disarray, futon lying disheveled with the covers beneath it, bookshelf standing on its head and tilted into the corner, full-length mirror fallen flat and smashed to pieces. His clothes are heaped around the clothes rail, hangers jutting at crazy angles, his curtains are slumped in untidy piles under the windows, and his stereo is on its side and jutting red wiring.
But that isn’t everything. The main thing is the light bulb by his feet. He takes a deep breath, and looks out the window.
“What the,” he breathes.
The world is upside down.
Image from here.
Read More
