Introduction
Julian woke up to find his left hand missing. In its place was a bouquet of spoons, polished and shimmering, clinking softly when he moved. He didn’t panic. This kind of thing had been happening all week. On Tuesday, his shadow turned into a flock of paper birds. Yesterday, his voice started speaking in morse code.
He got out of bed, careful not to disturb the spoons, and went to make coffee — only to discover the kitchen had been replaced by an ocean. The stove bobbed on gentle waves, and the refrigerator sailed past on a raft made of butter knives. He sighed and rolled up his sleeves. “Guess it’s one of those mornings.”
The Moon Appears
As he waded into the water, the radio crackled to life and announced: “Attention! The moon has been misplaced. Please return it if found.”
Julian froze. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glowing, silver orb the size of a marble. It hummed softly in his palm, a gentle, tidal pull. “Oh,” he said. “So that’s where I put it.”
Things Get Stranger
Without warning, his house began to float upward. The ocean sloshed against the walls as the entire structure rose into the sky, drifting past clouds shaped like exclamation points. Through the window, a parade of clocks marched below, each one ticking out a different song. A pineapple in a tuxedo waved politely as they passed.
“Morning,” Julian said, nodding.
Finally, a knock came at the ceiling. Julian opened the attic hatch, and a man with the head of a television climbed down. Static flickered across his face. “You have something that doesn’t belong to you,” the TV-man said. His voice was a chorus of weather reports.
Julian considered this. “The spoons?” he asked.
“No. The moon.”
“Oh. Right.” He held up the marble-sized moon, but before he could hand it over, it began to grow. It swelled until it was too heavy to hold, then floated gently upward, sticking to the ceiling like a balloon.
The Moon Escapes
The house tilted sideways. Furniture slid into the sky. Julian grabbed onto a chandelier made of fish. The TV-man clung to the wall, his screen showing nothing but an emergency broadcast signal.
“I told you!” the TV-man shouted, his face a whirl of static panic.
But it was too late. The moon burst through the roof, expanding to its full size, and the house cracked apart like an eggshell. Julian found himself falling — but instead of hitting the ground, he landed on a train made entirely of whispers. The passengers were jellyfish in business suits, reading newspapers made of wind.
As the train sped forward, the moon chased them — rolling along the horizon like a giant pearl. Julian took a deep breath and adjusted his bouquet of spoons. “I really need a vacation,” he muttered.
The jellyfish nodded in solemn agreement.
Conclusion
In a world where nothing stays normal for long, Julian’s adventures had only just begun. But first, maybe he’d see if the train had a snack cart. After all, it had been a long morning.
