Go up a Level

A DAY OFF WORK IS A WEEK

My bed seems to have developed some kind of gravitational or electromagnetic field all of a sudden, because I just cannot get out of it. It only started yesterday I think, but it feels I’ve been stranded here for aeons…a bit like those statues on Easter Island. I’ve tried climbing out, fold by fold, but my desperate struggles just seem to erode the chance of ever being set free. The folds are like great sand dunes where one footstep costs you another two, and you end up worse off than you began. So I just lay here. I honestly think I’ve got a better chance of escaping if I just sit here entirely motionless.

I couldn’t even get up to call work and tell them I was sick. I bet they’re worried or angry or something. I‘ve never been late before. But to be fair, it’s not as if I’m not trying. I’ve been trying to get out of bed like, forever. For all I know there’s nothing but desert outside my window cause I’ve been trying to get out of bed for a hundred million years. And great scaly animals walk the earth. That’s how bad this bed is. It folds time or something.

But then something weird’s been happening to my skin. My skin is going all flaky and, well, it’s going hard. My skin is going hard. Like I’m being armoured for something. Or like, maybe I’m evolving to live in the environment of the bed-desert? I dunno. I’m dead worried about it all, but mum says just to forget about it 'cause the council are looking at it, and they should have it all fixed by tomorrow afternoon.

Go up a Level