When the alarm rang, my hands flew into the sky, disappearing amongst the strange clouds, so like the dreams of long forgotten gods. My arms inched away from me as if animated by some macabre magnetism, drawing them ever further from me and my desires. As I watched, the air itself became thick with meanings, impossible histories of divine import, half-formed women whose visages bade my courtship; the vague impressions of wingless birds and birdless wings swarmed forth in mid-air.

These apparitions became my eyes themselves, so that I no longer saw from within myself, but from without. How strange the result; for when I witnessed the remnants of my body I saw that each element had distinguished itself from its former unity, and now prosecuted relation with the world upon its own terms. Organs and bones dissembled in strange directions I could only barely comprehend, as if they were tangential to reality itself.

Even my blood, having become akin to crimson mercury, broiled forth in search of gods knew what, in rolling rivulets whose rounded forms warped their reflected surroundings. My teeth assembled themselves into a circular pattern, and wriggled slowly, embedding their roots into the floor. An ear leapt in an arc, landed, twisted itself into a fleshy spring, and leapt again, spinning through space like some spectacular gambler’s weird accoutrement.