2.
    I shuffled out of the bedroom. My legs seemed unsteady, my balance tricky. I moved awkwardly through a dark hallway hung with dim landscapes and gloomy portraits and into another room. The furniture seemed huge. The chairs and tables dwarfed me. My feet caught on the rug. I glanced down at them. They were tiny, like the feet of a child. My limbs and fingers were small and pudgy. I was wearing some sort of overalls.

   The moaning danced around me in the darkness like bats. It wavered in volume and tone like a radio searching for a signal. I had to turn on a light. I peered into the shadows looking for a lamp. There was nothing. I searched the walls looking for a switch. Then something caught my eye. I could just make out a light switch high above me. The ruckus dimmed and swelled. Its source seemed to move in the darkness, now in a corner, now next to me, now trailing away. I clambered onto a chair. My legs swung in the air. A chill went up my spine as imaginary hands reached out and grabbed at me. I pulled myself up on the cushion and balanced on an arm.    

   The moans rushed toward me. I reached for the light again. They doubled in volume. My arms were covered with goose bumps. My fingers found the switch. One more stretch balancing on the arm on tiptoes and I had it. I heard it snap as I pushed it up. I collapsed into the chair. I was blinded as the room was flooded with light.