Eureka

I’m done for the night. I turn off the computer and slide it away from me. After a minute the screen glows a bright blue before flashing off. I am left in complete darkness now. Pushing my chair back, I stand up and in a second I’m lying face down on the carpet. It smells not unpleasantly of dust. I lay motionless here while all around me the world moves. The dark room swirls, spins, tilts, expands, then collapses all around me. Suddenly the roof is gone, the walls, and all my furniture are gone. The stars grin down at me from a pitch black, moonless sky until they too are swept away in the whirlwind that blows around all time and space.
And now I am naked under a glaring, angry sun. Beneath me bubbles thick, black tar stretching out in all directions. The sun inhales deeply and suddenly I am frozen in the hardened pitch. And then, violently, he spits. A wad of ugly, black, boiling tar comes screaming out of the sky, falling directly towards me. And now I am engulfed. I am covered in thick, black ooze. I try to breathe and it pours into my nostrils and mouth, filling my throat and lungs. It flows into my ears, my eyes, permeates my every pore. It is filling my skull. Filling in every nook and cranny in my brain, boiling me alive from the inside out. I cough, wretch once, then a second time and its all pouring out of me.
I’m in my bathroom. The only light comes from a streetlight, casting a sad orange lines across the floor. The linoleum feels cold against my bare knees and the toilet is reassuringly solid in my hands. I wretch again and another wave of tar bursts out of me. Only it’s not tar anymore. It is my dinner; spaghetti. It comes out of me partially liquefied, stained purple with wine. It burns its way out of my gut, up my throat, and then forces its way out of any opening it can find. Flowing freely now from my mouth and nostrils. I cough weakly and another burst of sick falls out of my mouth, splashes loudly into the water. I emit a pathetic sound, some sad noise that is half whimper and half gargle.
When my eyes open again, I’m face down on the cold, white floor. The world has stopped spinning but the room around me has become unrecognizable. I am in a bare white room, no door or window can be seen, no items of any kind around me. The whole room is lit by soft blue glow. But the light, I notice, doesn’t seem to be coming from anywhere. It is coming from everywhere. The whole of the room seems to be emanating its own light from somewhere deep within the walls. It’s that kind of antiseptic bluish-white light that you get in hospitals. I groan, it makes me sick. Collapsing into a corner I shut my eyes tightly and groan again. The silence of the room is suddenly broken by the sound of a bird chirping. Fuck.
“You okay down there?” She asks in that sincere but emotionless way that I’ve come to loathe.
No, I’m not going to answer that. Instead I say, “What the fuck are you doing here?” The vulgarity makes my head spin and I try to hold down my sick.
Above I hear her ruffle her feathers, offended. “How could you even ask that? I’m here for you.” I groan, roll onto my back and look up at her. A little yellow bird, perched on a little outcropping in the wall. She cocks her head to the side and looks at me severely. “I should ask what you’re doing here.” Instead she begins to sing then. Her soft high voice filling the room. And now the music is in my head. I can feel it swaying about from side to side. It passes behind my eyes and flows down into the back of my throat. I exhale softly and for a second I can see the music come out of my mouth as a thin fog.
My eyes open and I’m once again lying on the cold tile floor of my bathroom. The room is dark and quiet and I am alone. I pull myself into a sitting position and lean against the door. “Why did you wake me up?” I ask aloud to no one.