Snippet #2243905

Dameon half-stumbled, half-fell into his room. The floor had suddenly turned to ice, and he was ice skating. Suddenly he found himself on the ground. Had he fallen? He didn't know. He didn't feel it. He was wearing an invisible suit, and couldn't feel a thing.

The room began to spin around, or maybe that was just him walking. Time slowed down as he stared dumbfoundedly at a candle. The fire flickered and danced in slow motion. "Welcome," it hissed to him. "Welcome."

The flames waved him over to the bed. He didn't feel his duffel bag hit the floor as he sluggishly followed the candles. It felt like he was moving through molasses. Did he hear voices? Or was it singing? Music? The candles ushered him forward. They grew taller, the flames becoming hair, and he was surrounded by numbers of beautiful, waxen women with fiery hair, beckoning him towards the bed.

His face hit the covers, and he was on a cloud. But, suddenly, he felt himself falling, and he gave a muffled shout as he clawed the duvet, trying to stay on. In his mind, he was about to fall thousands of feet. In reality, half of him was on the floor, the other half grasping at the bed, his eyes wide in an irrational panic.

Finally, he managed to pull himself entirely onto the bed. In his mind, he was now an angel, laying on the cloud. Relaxing. He shut his eyes and listened to himself breathing, and to the candles whispering to each other. He wasn't asleep, but he wasn't awake either.