You hear a rustling.
You don’t think much of it, must be the old grumpy neighbour fetching his newspaper or milk, you really don't care
A project has to be completed. Apps designed.
Mr. Baluja has been hounding you for days. When are you going to schedule him in, you wonder.
Busy, busy, busy. Bokonon.
You like it, the onslaught of demands and complaints. It’s a system. Understand the system and the burden suddenly lightens.
Plans within plans, inter-plans , exter- plans.
What time is it?
You fumble around for your phone.
You don’t find it, causing you to open your sleep laden eyes.
An ache attacks you the same instant. Your arms, your head, your feet, all feeling quartered. Like an ill-fated medieval convict.
Something is not right, you hold your head in your hand waiting for the pain to subside. But it does not. It just sits there, growing, spreading, like kudzu.
A few moments pass in silence. You try to call your mind into action
Force it to compute its surroundings. Your eyes fail you, you try and try. But they don’t budge.
A sliver of light enters, but it’s not enough. You lie back down. Let sleep engulf you, chase away the pain.
As you curve your back to rest your head, the unfamiliarity hits you. This is not your bed.The realization flits away. The land of the horizontal has claimed you.
See Part -I : https://steemit.com/shortstory/@mephentis/a-totalitarian-abduction-part-i
