My room has changed, can you see it? It's the shape. I'm sure it's the shape, almost but not quite imperceptible, it has changed.
Really, I will argue that black is white, it has changed.
Awkward isn't it. You not believing but not wanting to push the point yet wondering why I am so insistent.
It. Has. Changed.
I could tell as soon as I entered. At first there was something, not a smell, not a taste but apparent to some non-visual sense.
No one has rearranged the plaster ducks into a nose dive, nobody has moved the furniture, the windows are in the place where they've always been.
Like stepping into an alternate reality one door along from my own. Is the paint the same colour, what about the wallpaper? It is becoming less clear, the longer I am here the less I feel it.
Panic is setting in. Panic not because of the displacement but due to the feeling of loss of connection to the old world. A connection to the old world that...
I can't put my finger on it.
Something, what was it now?
Meh, can't recall.
I'll put the kettle on.
Everything is ok.
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