The best way I can put it is that there’s something wrong with reality. The way things are, the way they’ve always been and should stay, is changing in these small ways that I keep seeing. I’m not being deep or anything, right now. I mean real stuff like gravity just isn’t working right. I got home today, and one of my notebooks was on the ceiling. I got up on a chair to grab it, but whenever I let go of it, it would go back to the ceiling. Like it was dropping in reverse. Nothing else was doing this, just the notebook. By the time I could take a picture or a video or something, it just fell down to the floor like normal. How would you explain that? Because I’m having a rough time with it. No one believes me, obviously. I tried telling a few people, but they just think I’m joking. So here I am, wondering what the hell.

Anyway, I went in, picked up what I wanted to buy, and made my innocent, not yet horribly scarred way up to the counter. Now, here are a few things about the clerk. They were pretty weirdly well-dressed. A clean white dress shirt, ironed out, with a tasteful black tie. Their hands had longish fingers, with fingernails that hadn’t been cut in a while. I could see the black dirt that had built up underneath them. Their sleeves were rolled up to their elbows, showing off some nicely toned forearms.

Also, they didn’t have a face.