Dreaming in Digital

I woke up in my warm bed to the sound of my husband, Cookie, entering the house. It had to be around nine in the morning, as I took a nap right after he left for work. It was day when I peered through the window. I asked him why he was home, and he told me he had finished work early.

I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom to do my morning routine. Instead of the ugly, chocolate-colour floor, we had nice, white tiles. The furniture had been moved around, and we were also missing our toilet and shower. Our two desktop computers were set up on the counter tops, in the middle of the room. I peered into the living room to find many of our furniture had also been moved. I began moving them back into their original positions.

I heard someone scratching at our front door. Horrified, there were broken patches on our door, and we could peek outside as much as they could inside. Our lock was reachable from the patches, and I watched as a preppy, old lady which white hair and a baby pink blazer tried to get in. I called to her, and she demanded I open the door, claiming we were in her apartment. Surprised by this, I opened the door without thinking, and the lady barged in, yelling. I looked down the corridor, and saw a blind man playing the piano. I wondered if we really were in the wrong apartment unit.