I found myself questioning the shadows appearing on the walls in my small apartment. They weren't mirroring any objects that were present. As there were no objects present.

I turned onto my side. The texture of the cold linoleum implementing itself into my skin. I brushed my hand against my bare thigh to adjust myself and I noticed my skin felt different.

When I looked down I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My skin had started to turn into the same material the floor was made out of.

I searched the rest of my body for any other signs of this sudden change and I instantly felt the same texture where my body had touched the floor.

I started to scream. I screamed so loud I swore I heard the windows shake. A thunderous boom erupted as the sound of glass shattering muffled my screams. Glass shards tinked to the ground. Some of the shards embedded themselves into my bare skin.

Most points of contact with the skin that turned into linolium the glass bounced off of, but the remaining flesh that wasn't yet linolium felt the sharpness of the gass.


I felt a burning sensation soon after paired with the smell of something burning. I looked down and to my dismay my skin was on fire. There were no flames but I felt the heat seeping into my bones. My body started to disappear altogether. I passed out fro the pain.

When I woke up I felt empty. I couldn't see anything.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Twenty years later....
_______________________


I had been sleeping off and on for some time. I woke up to the sounds of doors opening and closing. The sound of someone sweeping. I heard the tinkling of glass being cleaned up. My body felt suddenly wet. But free of glass. The burning was gone. The pain was gone.

I could hear the shuffling of boots as furniture was brought into the room. They placed everything so perfectly. The room looked like something from a magazine.

My body felt different. There was so much emptiness but as they filled the room with furniture I felt like I was filling up again.


I could hear voices. I tried talking. I couldn't hear myself over the sound of the building shifting or the groaning of the pipes. I rose my voice but the groaning only got louder.


The man sweeping looked up from his labor and wiped sweat from his brow.

"If buildings could talk boy I wish I knew what they would say"