A Series of Strange Writings
This is just stuff that I wrote with no specific oc of mine, but I just really like how they turned out. So Yeah. Unknown people in little tales of varying sizes.
A Room
A door opens.
Wait, that's not right. You turn around to look behind your chair. There is no door.
How did you get into the room?
You look around, there are no doors. There are no windows. Your turn back around in your chair.
There is a computer, probably. You assume this is a computer. It has to be, obviously. It has no monitor, no screen. It makes no noise.
You put your hand down, on the space next to where you sit, and push yourself up to a standing position. You turn your head to look at the bed you were sitting on. You were sitting on a bed, right? You walk forward.
There's a knock at the door.
Well now, you've already gone over that, as you walk around the room. There is no door, after all, so no one can be knocking on the door.
But someone is still knocking.
On what?
You follow the sound of the knocking, the room is still going. It was probably that big already, probably. It's like you can do anything about it if it wasn't actually this big originally, because the room is now as big as it is.
You stumble on the stairs and grab the railing, looking up behind you. You're pretty fair down them by now, it's a surprise you stumbled. Why would you stumble if you've been on the stairs the entire time, after all.
You look back in front of you and walk across the porch. Is it called a porch? It looks like a porch, but it's inside. Is there something like that? There must be, because you're walking on it.
The knocking on the door stopped.
There was no door, so whatever was being knocked on wasn't the door. You have to remind yourself that, again.
You cross your arms and sit down in your chair, which is obviously your chair. This is what you planned on doing, after all. You wanted to get on the computer, so now you're sitting in front of the computer.
Your chair breaks, it had to have broken. It made an awful noise and now you're falling backwards. It's so startling that you don't even react to the sudden sensation.
You roll on to your side, clutching your blankets as you lay in bed. Right, you were in bed, not on a chair. That's why you fell, because you leaned back expecting something to rest against when there wasn't anything.
Now you're all cozy in bed as you look across the room at the door.
The door opens.