Edward Wakes 5.7.09

Edward's eyes began to flutter, and thus filter the new golden light that was gleaming in through the large 3 windows that sit at the foot of his bed. There are voices below the windows. Edward is still asleep in 90% of his mind.
But they are saying something about construction, building, beams...

Edward Wakes 4.24.09

Edward is not quite awake yet. Which is very unusual for Edward. He is a practical and organized man who takes pride in his circadian rhythm. But the last few mornings have just been so strange, that Edward's sub-conscience mind has suggested to his physical body, that possibly a little extra sleep this morning would be an advised plan.

So Edward slept for just a little bit longer than normal. But, practicality and stubbornness will over some the more shaded regions of your mind, and Edward started to open his eyes.

CRASH.

A man's body falls through the window and lands on the floor of Edward's room. Suddenly Edward's conscience mind wakes up, and starts scolding his sub-conscience mind for distracting Edward and keeping him asleep while important things are going on! The sub-conscience of course, was a little bit snooty, as it always is being the older part of the brain, and told the conscience mind that it would have happened anyways.

But nevertheless, Edward jumps out of bed with a scream. He quickly surveys the room, and is somewhat blinded by the new stream of bright morning light shining in his window. Edward looks down to the stream of light spilling onto the floor and it half lights a body laying there on the floor. The light oozes from the crack in the window and glitters off of all the broken glass.

Edward bends down, still afraid, but trying to be rational...and nudges the man with his hand. No movement. "Shit" though Edward, "Who is going to believe this?"

Edward Wakes 4.23.09

Edward opens his eyes and nose to a confusing atmosphere.

There are fumes in the air, heavy fumes that like to linger and crawl, like paint or varnish. 'Strange' thought Edward as he attempted to sit up in bed. Edward's mind, upon rising from the pillow was assaulted with a wave of motion and sickness. He laid his head back down.

'Sometimes we must be more careful waking up,' considered Edward and sat there peacefully for a moment, 'Now. What is that smell?'. Edward searched his memory banks of, not only, his olfactory glands but also his Pineal and Thyroid- truthfully not because he was on a grand search, but because he really didn't have much control of his memory searches as a small Terranian mammal. Edward was stumped.

He opened up his mouth to speak, and a puff of smoke rose out. He gulped his mouth closed too quickly in surprise, and choked on what smoke was still rising from his throat. Edward started to cough and sputter and he raised himself up to catch his breath- and the wave of motion and sickness returned. Edward was now coughing and clutching his head at the same time. Trying to find his way to lay down again- but not even knowing which way was up.

Edward, somehow, found the bottom, though it felt like the side, of his bed and motion slowed- and Edward was able to regain a small amount of his composure. Edward thought that he might try to blink once, and this would be all over. So slowly. He closed his eyelids, and lay there in the darkness for a moment. He centered himself, and drew inward as he had done so many times before.

He reopened his eyes. And above him were the large flashing letters "Randall Buckler". 'Who in the hell?' thought Edward.

Edward Wakes 4.22.09

Riddled with doubt and insecurities, Edward stepped on. The wall was gone.
What kind of blasted morning was this?

Edward, desperately trying to cling the far reaching tentacles of his synapses to something solid tried to remember, when and where this was, when and where he was earlier, and then more immediately- where and when he was now.

Edward Wakes Up 1

Edward was staring at the wall.
The wall hadn’t been there moments before, and now, that it was he stood transfixed. Edward was a rational man, and worried, rationally, that if he took his eyes off the wall it would cease to exist as suddenly as it had come into existence.
Edward was quite sure he hadn’t seen the wall before. No it was not from his house, nor from his mother’s or any of his friends. In fact Edward had always been fond of wallpapers and he was sure he had not seen this pattern before, nor wallpaper of this degraded quality. The wallpaper was of an early 90s floral pattern to be sure, but was covered in layers of dust and age, as if no one had touched the wall for years.
So Edward decided that yes, this was a wall, and not some form of a hallucination or anything of that form. In fact Edward would much rather believe that walls could appear out of nowhere instead of them popping out of his own consciousness. Things like that were just unsettling.
If time were a bubble made of molasses, with a infinite radius within the perceivable universe, Edward was certain that for this moment he was at its core. The floral patterns began to shift, but it was impossible to tell if it was the colors reaching out to him, like lead files to a magnet, or if it was, perhaps, his eyes straining and breaking from ceaseless, relentless, defiant concentration on this inexplicable force. His thoughts became unsteady, like a train tilting off of its tracks, as he tried to gage how much of the shifting was his own paranoid projections, and how much was continued inexplicableness. He decided he must blink, less the waves of confusion overtake him.
blink