Sin Título

It was only a nightmare, but I was standing in a bedroom when a realization crept up on me that everything contained within began with the letter C. There was a cot cloaked in covers. The ceiling and the carpet were connected by the room's corners. There was a commode centered inside the closet. There were curtains, cabinets, and compact discs. There were cracks and crannies. Not only was there even a colander close to the chair, nor only that I was covered in clothing, but, for Christ's sake, my entire body was made up of cells. It was inescapable. Coats. Couches. Candles. Corkboards. Cats. Chests. Computers. They all began with C. I thought I saw a painting, but, as it unmistakably turned out, was nothing more than a caricature composed on a canvas. The more I looked, the more objects there were. I had never been rendered so completely helpless in my entire life.