[ WP ] Every time you fall asleep , you wake up somewhere else . Sadly , you are narcoleptic .

At first it was infuriating. I just got out of college and was ready to join the workforce when it happened the first time. 
 
 You can imagine my surprise when I went to bed in my apartment and woke up in Egypt. Seriously, like pyramids and stuff. At first I thought it was some prank my engineering buddies pulled. They had been working on some virtual reality headgear and they ’ re prone to using me as a guinea pig. I spent the first ten minutes walking around the desert in my boxers, screaming my friend ’ s name like a lunatic. Now I am among the nerdiest-looking guys you ’ re ever going to meet. I have sadly disheveled hair, wire rim glasses and skin as soft and white as a newborn baby ’ s bottom. I sunburned. Badly. 
 
 I also didn ’ t have my glasses. I can see fairly well without them, but reading is nearly impossible. By this point I realized that I hadn ’ t done any of my morning rituals. My mouth tasted like a cat had taken a dump in it, schmutz was caked in the corners of my eyes and I really had to pee. Since this was obviously a game, I didn ’ t want to relieve myself and wet the bed. I looked up at the blazing blue sky and gave my friend some choice words before plopping down on the sand. The excruciatingly hot sand. 
 
 T – 30 minutes. I was parched and my skin was getting ready to slough off. I had the brilliant idea of putting my hand on my face and trying to take the goggles off. I gently smacked myself in the nose, and did it again and again like some mentally unsound monkey. Either this was a really, really good game, or I was actually in Egypt in my underwear. 
 
 
 So I had a slight meltdown. I charged through the desert, gibbering and throwing up sand, desperately trying to come up with some explanation as to how I got here. My brain still wasn ’ t working right. I finally came to a road and collapsed on it. Weak from dehydration and my cooked flesh, I lapsed into unconsciousness. 
 
 
 Apparently that counts as “ sleep. ” I awoke in a grass field in what I assumed was the American Midwest. I was still weak, but I had the luck to poof into existence by a cow pond. Despite the mosquito larvae, algae and host of parasites, I drank it. I felt much better and decided to go for a swim. 
 
 This is where my narcolepsy comes into play. I took medicine for it and it was manageable for the most part… until I began my journey across the world in my boxers. 
 
 This time I woke up, soaking wet and sunburned, in a Swedish village. Did I mention that it was winter? 
 
 So apparently the Swedes are pretty friendly. Most places would kill, imprison or experiment on the amazing Half-Naked Apparating Man, but these guys gave me a coat and some hot drink to warm up. I think the village was pretty isolated since none of them seemed to even vaguely understand English. Nonetheless, they were very kind until my next sleep attack. 
 
 Cut to Moscow. I still lacked pants but now I had a coat. I felt confident. Quite a few people understood English and I began politely asking for food, information and the like. Most of them looking at my like I was insane, but one woman was kind enough to give me a few bills and a Russian granola bar. I sat down on a freezing curb and munched the granola of the Motherland while watching traffic go by. I slowly began to take in what was happening. At first, I hated my “ gift. ” It ripped me away from my friends and family, my home and everything I ever knew and just dumped me in some random location whenever my narcolepsy felt like it. I forlornly traveled from Australia, where everything living thing wants to kill you, to the dense Amazon, where almost as many living things want to kill you. 
 
 But then I realized what kind of opportunity I had. Yes, the narcolepsy made it unpredictable, but I found some truly amazing places. My favorite jumps made me realize how valuable my gift was. 
 
 I was thrown into the middle of the Pacific Ocean after watching the stars in Africa. I had grown a beard, gotten a tan and finally acquired some pants. I still had my Swedish coat. I splutterd to the surface on the warm April night, the heavy fur of my coat threatening to drag me down. I refused to discard it, as it was one of the few possessions I had. I wouldn ’ t let my “ gift ” take that from me, too. 
 
 I eventually positioned myself so that I could float on my back. There was a new moon and the Milky Way was vibrant against the deep blue of the night sky. The constellations had moved between here and Africa. Then the song started. I looked down into the water below me and could see massive dark shapes moving in the glow of the water. The sound vibrated through the water and into my bones, making my teeth ache. The dark shapes moved up, bringing with them a trail of glowing cyan lights. The saddest, most beautiful song I ever heard echoed throughout the ocean as the whales played in the waves. Bioluminescent plankton rose from the ocean ’ s depths, outlining the whales ’ every movement in a display of light. They were humpbacks. 
 
 One ’ s song was heartbreaking. It was an elderly cow, scarred and wrinkled. She breached alongside me and looked at me with one tiny eye. Her fins were in tatters and tooth marks were deep in her flesh. There was a lot of pain in that little eye. I swam over, rested my head on her nose and whispered comforting words. We floated there as the rest of the whales moved on. We stayed together until natural sleep began to weigh on me. I knew I could trust the cow to keep me afloat until I woke up in another land, so I slipped away into dreams that were less fantastic than reality. 
 
 After this, I treated my gift with the respect it deserved. Every jump was a new opportunity. Sure, I was usually hungry, thirsty and tired, but I got to see what nobody else did. Yes, I was dropped in the ocean two thirds of the time, but it didn ’ t matter anymore. 
 
 My most recent jump left me halfway up the stairway to Heaven. I stood and watched the sun rise in the crimson sky. All of my old worries were small. I was tall on the unnamed mountaintop, clad in a Swedish jacket, ragged jeans and shoes gifted to me by a child of some African tribe. I watched the dawn unveil the world around me, and I smiled. 
 
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 Sorry for the sudden comedy to serious switch. I originally planned to have him hunted by every government because he was a threat to every nation's security, but it got away from me. Hope you enjoyed: D
