Reality

I cower under my bedsheet. The walls are shifting and melting and collapsing. The whitewash comes off the walls like how ice thaws in the spring. The roof sags like when the rain accumulates on a poorly built awning. The floor gives way as the weight of the the cabinets, desk and dresser are suddenly a hundred times heavier. My world crumbles before my very eyes and I can do nothing about it. I pucker up enough courage and pull down the bedsheet to survey the room. The room is gone and I am all that is left. And one day, I too will disappear.