I couldn’t believe my eyes as I woke, peering through between the curtains at the garden below. A thin layer of mist swept through the trees, floating seamlessly across the grass and spreading towards the stone patio. A bird was chirping from it’s warm nest, high above the ground in a tree. I listened carefully, before climbing down from my bed and reaching out for my robe.

Down the stairs I ran, missing the last step and I leapt out onto the landing. I swiftly headed into the kitchen, and through the cupboards I rummaged like a fox between the bins – scavenging for food. A white bowl was filled with clusters of corn flakes, flooded by a splash of milk before landing at the table. The clatter of the spoon against the edges of my bowl sent shivers down my spine. I flicked a little switch on my radio, and began to twist a dial to tune into some reasonable music. It was as if all the music had been stopped, it was talking. Talking.

Mumbling words on each frequency, saying nothing but horrible things. I swivelled around in my chair, taking another look out of the window while listening into the noise to my side. The bird had flown away, it’s bright colours were no longer to be seen through the thick fog that had covered my garden. The pond in the far right corner had disappeared, the patio was nowhere in sight.

The day was six hours in, but mine had just begun.