You are standing. It is best if you [[sit.|sit]]You take a seat on your sofa. You feel a falling sensation, and suddenly you are plummeting through the floor of your home, the foundations, the earth's crust, and eventually you land. Well, landing is a strong word. You are in the inky abyss of deep space. You can breath, and an exploratory movement of your arms shows you can swim as if it were water. [[Swim North|fool]] [[Swim South|fool]] [[Swim East|fool]] [[Swim West|fool]]How on earth would you know which way is north, west, south or east? Everything is dark except for the faint illumination of distant stars! [[Swim|swim]] You swim, until you come across a planet. Well, your first reaction is to call it a planet, as it's a thing in space, but it is in fact simply a warehouse. A floating, corrugated iron warehouse. You cannot see a planet that it could be in orbit of, but due to it's obviously not being a natural occurance, you deduce that it has been designed by something, and is therefore an unnatural satallite. [[Swim towards it| house]] [[Stay still| stay]] You swim to the warehouse. Upon arrival, you head straight through the door. The floor space is full of tiny plasticine balls, and the room is full of strange, brightly coloured humanoid aliens all looking distinctly touristy. A rotund purple alien with yellow hair like Dusty Springfield, an excited smile and what sounds suspiciously like a californian accent. Despite her odd pignmentation, extra limbs and lack of eyes, you get the feeling she'd be more at home in a glowing diner in a rest stop off an interstate than where you are now. [["You have to squish them against your face."| fac]] [[Shrug. You're as confused as she is.|shrug]]You stay still. It is not starvation that gets you first, nor the chill that penetrates deep into your bones, tolerable while moving but unbearable when still enough to contemplate, it's the lonliness and uncertainty. After hours, minutes or days of existential contemplation, you decide that it's best to leave this astral plane, and after several botched attempts, your cause of death is a radial artery torn out by blunt, desperate teath. She follows your advice, picking up a model of a planet that appears to be orange, with a noxious looking green cloud looming over it, and smashes it against her face. She disappears. Dream logic therefore dictates that this is how you get home. You find the earth model, and smash it to your face. It's cold, and makes its way into your nose, restricting your breathing, you feel yourself losing consciousness, and then you wake up. Winner!You assume that it is some kind of museum, and spend the remainder of your dream examining all the models. They're very well made, and only break when you tread on them by accident.