Walking through a strange cramped apartment hallway. Clean white walls. Everything seems strange. Everything is shifting. I look around and it all alters as I move. Getting smaller, then larger, then closer, then farther. The floors are made of fir and such a pretty brown. An apartment door to my left is slightly open. I peek inside as I pass. Dark brown leather work boots with long thin curved laces. My body is moving without me. I have no intention.
I am in a bedroom. It is very dark. The blue curtains are pulled down over the window. It is daytime. Some of the light from outside filters in as the breeze flutters the curtains.
I am sitting on the bed. I remember that I want to taste something while I am here. I ask for an apple. I snap the fingers of my left hand and hold my palm open. A sort of apple appears. It is only partially there. It has a round top on the right side but that is all. It isn’t red like I wanted. What I can see of it is gray. I close my eyes. “When I open my eyes, there will be a red apple in my hand.” I open my eyes. What was gray is now red but most of the apple is still missing. I ask for an orange. In my hand appears four small pieces of a tiny orange. I taste them. There’s no sweetness. No juice. I ask for a cucumber and get tiny gherkins not yet pickled. I remember that I want to rub my hands together and just as I am about to touch, I am pulled out of that place and wake up here.