Waking up

I suddenly wake up. I felt that something wrong happened around me. Still in the middle of the sleep, my sense of balance is gone, an upside down completely different from what usually happens in a dream. I stand up, but my feet experience a change while touching the usual freezing floor. Looking around, I realize that my house is thirty degrees tilted. 


All the furniture lies against the walls in front of me. My bed is in the middle of the room, but just because other things block it there. Everything it was in the room is disappeared or broken, amassed in the other corner. I am scared. I can see also the building in front of me in a strange position. Everything I can see has a completely wrong shape. I am sure I am in a wrong place when I recognize the ground in between what used to be my view. I stand up. I look for my shoes, because the floor seems a dangerous place now for my naked feet. Hard job. I realize that I am trembling. I am trying to understand what happened, to my house and actually to the world. It is clear. The building crashed. It is somehow folded up. I am trying to make sense out of that, finding something like a solution for what is clearly without solution. 


I am realizing that I see things from the windows that I should not see. They are too close, too big. I should not see the trees next to that window, for sure not in the window. I must hold myself to the walls or to what seem to be enough secure, if I want avoid to slipper somewhere, like where it used to be the wardrobe. I am like hallucinating. There is an impressive silence, even if most of the windows are broken, and I should hear at least the birds singing at this time. Now I see, the ceiling folded up here. I can pass only crawling. I do not know why I am going in this direction, the door is up, on the other side. I just reach the lower point of the house. I am going out climbing over an unknown wall, paying attention to my ceiling. I am passing through a hole that was a big window. I am on the balcony. No, it is really far to be a balcony, and now I can touch the ground. It is impossible that the balcony is touching the ground. 


I am outside. I am scared to look back. There is my flat, it is like it is holding the entire world. It is the entire world. Watching through the walls of the kitchen and of my room, I can see the paint in the living room. The paint. It seems something deeply wrong that I can see the paint. My building is not there anymore, it is a mass of rubble. There is only rubble around me, nothing but rubble. No voice. No people. Just me. The blue sky accompany by a splendid sun.