“OK. Get dressed”...my clothes were pieces of decaying rags. I stood there in the nude looking at myself in the mirror hanging on the door. Sheila had put it there a few months before she died.
I searched the apartment and managed to find a pair of jeans and a hoodie that had been wrapped up in paper...newspaper. Somehow they had survived whatever had happened. A pair of boots mostly leather had survived as well.
Back in the kitchen I found bottles of water...a case of twenty four...Something told me I would need them.
I didn’t panic...not yet....That came later but by then I had good reason to panic. In the mean time I went out to try and find out what the hell was happening...or....had happened....and how I had managed to sleep through it.