have changed its mind and now spun clockwise, and in doing so, sucked anything not tied down into its blue swirlyness. Gerald turned and began to waddle as fast as he could but he didn't seem to be going anywhere. He waddled faster, but to no avail.
This is the end
.
I'm done for!
The blue swirly thing moved faster and faster and within a split second Gerald, the chunks of ice, and a rather shocked fish got sucked into the blue swirly thing and vanished.
Consequently, the blue swirly thing heaved a sigh of relief and blew itself out.
Thirteen.
Nigel woke up on the couch and looked into two very worried-looking faces. The faces, to the best of his recollection, belonged to his roommates, Giles and Herbert.
Giles, tall and skinny, could consume large amounts of food without gaining a pound but as a consequence, couldn't hold his liquor and often ended up passing out on his bed. Although, more often than not, he fell off his bed and ended up on the floor.
Herbert was a rich kid with a serious distaste for money, so in order to get rid of it, he tended to spend vast amounts of it at a time. Herbert paid for the apartment they rented. Herbert bought all the food and alcohol consumed within a mile of the apartment. And all the crockery that laid in many bits and pieces on the kitchen floor had been bought by, and belonged to, Herbert.
Nigel rubbed his head and tried to shake the fuzziness from his eyes. He had the strong sensation that something had happened, a breakthrough of mammoth proportions. He could feel everything in the room around him; even the stuff he couldn't see from his spot on the couch was firmly etched in his mind.
"You all right?" asked Giles. "You took a nasty fall."
"What the hell happened to my kitchen?" said Herbert with a smaller trace of concern in his voice than Giles had expressed.
Nigel still felt shooting pains in his forehead, but they seemed more organized. Not quite as chaotic as before. He sat up and looked around the room. Shards of crockery littered the doorway to the kitchen.
"Did . . . did I do that?" he asked.
"I heard the smash and came in just in time to see my kitchen destroyed, and then you passed out. What did you have to drink last night?" said Herbert.
"How did you do that, Nigel? The kitchen, I mean?" asked Giles.
"I, uh, I don't really know," was the only response that Nigel could think of. He stood up, then steadied himself. "I was thinking about what a good night we had and how well things were going with Harriet and how everything was going perfectly."
The buzzing in his head turned into a low hum.
"And that's why you destroyed my kitchen? I was hoping for something a bit more melodramatic," said Herbert disappointedly.
Nigel looked around the room. Everything seemed exactly like before, nothing had changed. And yet it all felt different. It was a strange sensation, but he felt like he had control over everything. He had the distinct feeling that if he waved his hands at the couch, he would be able to move it without even touching it. He decided to test the theory and in doing so, using only his mind and a simple wave of his hand, forced the couch up through the ceiling and off to God knew where. God did know; as it turned out,
where
was actually a nude beach in the south of France where, to this day, people still enjoy sitting on the couch that some claim fell from the sky.
Giles and Herbert, who had been standing next to the couch at the time of its ascension, dusted the plaster out of their hair and tried hard to glare at Nigel in anger. This proved too difficult, as they were both somewhat afraid that Nigel would fire them through the roof, too.
Nigel smiled. He'd read about this kind of thing. Telekinesis: the ability to move things with the mind. Usually some kind of trauma or episode would bring this form of talent and power to the surface of one's mind.
In Nigel's case, everything in his life had suddenly become perfect and, in doing so, a rare power that
This is the end
.
I'm done for!
The blue swirly thing moved faster and faster and within a split second Gerald, the chunks of ice, and a rather shocked fish got sucked into the blue swirly thing and vanished.
Consequently, the blue swirly thing heaved a sigh of relief and blew itself out.
Thirteen.
Nigel woke up on the couch and looked into two very worried-looking faces. The faces, to the best of his recollection, belonged to his roommates, Giles and Herbert.
Giles, tall and skinny, could consume large amounts of food without gaining a pound but as a consequence, couldn't hold his liquor and often ended up passing out on his bed. Although, more often than not, he fell off his bed and ended up on the floor.
Herbert was a rich kid with a serious distaste for money, so in order to get rid of it, he tended to spend vast amounts of it at a time. Herbert paid for the apartment they rented. Herbert bought all the food and alcohol consumed within a mile of the apartment. And all the crockery that laid in many bits and pieces on the kitchen floor had been bought by, and belonged to, Herbert.
Nigel rubbed his head and tried to shake the fuzziness from his eyes. He had the strong sensation that something had happened, a breakthrough of mammoth proportions. He could feel everything in the room around him; even the stuff he couldn't see from his spot on the couch was firmly etched in his mind.
"You all right?" asked Giles. "You took a nasty fall."
"What the hell happened to my kitchen?" said Herbert with a smaller trace of concern in his voice than Giles had expressed.
Nigel still felt shooting pains in his forehead, but they seemed more organized. Not quite as chaotic as before. He sat up and looked around the room. Shards of crockery littered the doorway to the kitchen.
"Did . . . did I do that?" he asked.
"I heard the smash and came in just in time to see my kitchen destroyed, and then you passed out. What did you have to drink last night?" said Herbert.
"How did you do that, Nigel? The kitchen, I mean?" asked Giles.
"I, uh, I don't really know," was the only response that Nigel could think of. He stood up, then steadied himself. "I was thinking about what a good night we had and how well things were going with Harriet and how everything was going perfectly."
The buzzing in his head turned into a low hum.
"And that's why you destroyed my kitchen? I was hoping for something a bit more melodramatic," said Herbert disappointedly.
Nigel looked around the room. Everything seemed exactly like before, nothing had changed. And yet it all felt different. It was a strange sensation, but he felt like he had control over everything. He had the distinct feeling that if he waved his hands at the couch, he would be able to move it without even touching it. He decided to test the theory and in doing so, using only his mind and a simple wave of his hand, forced the couch up through the ceiling and off to God knew where. God did know; as it turned out,
where
was actually a nude beach in the south of France where, to this day, people still enjoy sitting on the couch that some claim fell from the sky.
Giles and Herbert, who had been standing next to the couch at the time of its ascension, dusted the plaster out of their hair and tried hard to glare at Nigel in anger. This proved too difficult, as they were both somewhat afraid that Nigel would fire them through the roof, too.
Nigel smiled. He'd read about this kind of thing. Telekinesis: the ability to move things with the mind. Usually some kind of trauma or episode would bring this form of talent and power to the surface of one's mind.
In Nigel's case, everything in his life had suddenly become perfect and, in doing so, a rare power that
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