Unity

The day started with what he thought was a full pot of hot coffee. Only it was cold and made him gag and spit black ichor back into his mug. It went downhill from there.

Driving home was a relief at first. Then the floaters appeared. He assumed they were just collagen specks drifting about in his eyeball fluid; everybody had them.

It got worse. He began to panic. Not only for the health implications, but he could barely see the road. Strings, bits of foam danced over his vision. His own private snow storm. He pulled into an empty lot, hopped the curb in the process. Horns blared. Pulse racing, he stumbled out of the car. He placed his head between his knees and tried to control his breathing.

The floaters began to fade. He sighed in relief. But when he looked up, he felt cold in the mouth again. A neon tear sliced through the landscape pulsing silently. His visions seemed to double and pull apart like separating transparencies. Screams. He stands and looks around. A distance to his right is himself laying on the ground eyes covered with his hands. To the left, another doppelgänger sprinting away. He looks to his feet – the tear. He falls through the luminous crevasse and it vanishes with a snap.