It was at that moment everything began to move. The wardrobes, the chairs, and even the highly decorative sconces on the wall. Everything from the bed sheets to the load bearing pillars buried deep within the white washed palisades. All except the man in the middle of it all, Jonathan Taylor. Taylor was a rather drab man. Many men were like that these days, drab, drab and more drab. Taylor was rather confused because while everything moved, he started to defy gravity. His levitation gave him a rather large concern for his well-being. He knew not why nor the nature of his surroundings and was annoyed because he had a meeting to attend the very same day. He could not be late.

While thinking about his predicament, Taylor’s alarm clock began to play a jolly mariachi tune instead of its normal three tone blare. The clock moved towards Taylor, nudging up against his side. The clock seem to have an unending adoration for Taylor, the clock loved him more than anyone ever could. With mariachi still playing, the clock followed Taylor’s ascent to the ceiling. He tried, then, to move to the wardrobe and retrieve his suit. This seemingly simple idea was harder than expected. He had to “swim” in the air, again a hard task, because it was like moving through a semi-viscous liquid. Taylor seemed make slow progress in comparison to the sprightly movements of the clock, which literally ran circles around him. As it past Taylor noticed that he was already late for the meeting. The task of getting dressed was made more difficult by the fact that this wardrobe was a naughty wardrobe indeed, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not obtain the handle of the wardrobe. Taylor was at it for five minutes, grasping and lunging for the sweat laden handle. What made the task so difficult was the aforementioned characteristic of the wardrobe. It flitted away and seemed to giggle at the very concept of being opened up and examined. Finally, Taylor was able to extricate a gray suit from the mess which his life, or least his bedroom, was quickly becoming. Through a series of progressively uncomfortable positions, Taylor was dressed and looked half way descent, well I mean for a man whose entire being transcends a major force of quantum mechanics. He swam to the doorway and he exited the room.

It was at that moment everything stopped. Even Jonathan Taylor fell to the ground with a thud. The clock clattered against the floor and the wardrobe dropped with no signs of promiscuous activity. Dazed and quite confused, he began to experiment. He put one foot in the doorway, then another, then a hand, and another. Only when Taylor put his whole body into the door did everything begin to move again. Taylor, not wanting anything to do with this oh-so-interesting phenomenon, left to go to the meeting, because at that point he was already late for it.