She miraculously landed on her feet despite the enormity of the fall. Before her the ground shone like wet snakeskin pavement. The walls were there but she did not see them. As she stepped forward, the shadows to her left and right shuffled like cards. The cards clapped like thunder and flashed, strobe-like, in a spectrum of colors. They stopped, and abruptly the walls were quiet. The room was finished, and it now stood dark.

She turned to her right. Her eyes squinted and she held her blind hands before her; she looked for a light switch. What she reached was without temperature and without reflection. It grabbed her and tore her from the black pavement. It was as if it meant to tear her arms from her body. She landed on her feet again. It gave her confidence, the reassurance. This time she stood before two men who were covered in plastic wrap. They were wrapped like sausages, all but their heads, which were pink and bloated.

The two men were positioned at a table, propped up on long chairs, appearing rather uncomfortable. As she took a step backwards, her heels searched for the sturdiness of the ground, but they failed and she fell. The men did not move, but below them, square shaped pieces of the ground rose and lifted them. Then they sunk rapidly through the holes they had created.

The men sped up in their decent, and soon they all fell together. Her hair was wild and flailing, it whipped at her face and her clothing fought at her skin. The men were expressionless and taught, still propped firmly in their chairs. The floor they had fallen from shrunk away above, two square holes in the middle.

The fall became quieter, but did not seem to end. The three of them continued, encased in wind; speechless. At last one of the men said “Fancy a…” But before he could finish she landed on her neck. The chairs shattered and pierced through the plastic wrap, impaled the bloated men’s bodies.