THERE’S SOMETHING IN YOUR MOUTH
There’s nothing in your mouth. But it feels like there is. You lick and lick and lick and lick, and you pull weird faces and stretch your lips wide, but no matter what you do, you can’t find what’s in your mouth.
…because there’s nothing in your mouth.
But it feels like there is.
You touched a pot of honey, or you saw one across the room. Now your fingers are sticky, but they’re not. But they are. They’re totally sticky, and they’re sticking together. The more you wipe them, the stickier they get, and now your palms are sticky. You’re sticky everywhere. You’ll never be not sticky, never again.
TINY, DIRTY SPIDER FEET
There’s a spider on your neck.
You slap it off, but you can’t find it. Maybe it wasn’t a spider. Maybe it was your hair.
Except…there’s still a spider on your neck, traipsing up and down. It’s leaving spider footprints. Singing spider songs.
There is. There is. There’s a spider on your neck.
You did the ah part, but the -tchoo never came. Where did your sneeze go?
You still sort of need to sneeze…but then, you sort of don’t.
THE WEIRD, HEAVING PRESSURE OF THE FLOOR ON YOUR FEET
This one’s hard to describe. You’re standing on the floor, but the floor’s pushing back. Your feet feel more flattened than mere gravity should allow. You’re on the floor, but in an upside-down world, the floor is on you. Your balance goes wobbly, and you walk away.
THE CURIOUS ANGUISH OF STRETCHING
You wake up and stretch, and you scream in pain—aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!
It doesn’t hurt, as such, but at the same time, it’s torture.
THE COLDNESS OF HOT SHOWERS
Your shower is too hot for you, but also too cold. When the spray hits, it scalds you. When you move away, you shiver. You fuck with the taps, but it’s never quite right. (I think the trick is to match your body temperature exactly. But you have to do it right off. Once you’ve hit that hot-cold loop, you can’t settle in.)