[ WP ] You live in a world where gravity is a paid service , and you forget to pay your bill on time

I am face to face with my ceiling. Though this usually happens when one wakes up in the morning, I am awfully close to my ceiling. In fact, I feel its cold texture as it cradles my body. My arm whirls through the blanket, pushing against my chilly companion. I accidentally propel myself toward my nightstand and remember Isaac Newton. The characteristics of my movement will not change until my face connects with that expensive lamp. A grunt accompanies my arms' flailing. Otherwise, I tear through space-time with a gazelle's grace. Lamps are much harder than they look. I love lamp not. Apparently, lamp loves me not, for it performs quite a number on my face, my wall, and itself. Perhaps one may regard this lamp as a nihilist. Finally, I remember that my gravity bill is way-ass late.
