There is a door in my ceiling, and it is well hidden. While I am sleeping, the people who live in the room upstairs (or between my room and the room upstairs) open the door and come into my room. They are small people; they just look like someone took a shrinking gun to an average human. They're not over three feet high, and so, are able to walk upside down on the ceiling. This is good for them because if they could not do this, they would fall down 12 feet to my floor. They walk upside down on the ceiling and then sideways on the wall and then right side up on the floor. It's night time but this is not a problem because the street lights pour copious amounts of light into the room. The ceiling people use this light to play bridge on the decorative rug centered on the floor. After they are bored they toss and turn until they fall asleep comfortably on my new, old loveseat.
This is why when, in my conscious hours, the loveseat cushions are always slightly pulled out. I push them back in and go to class.
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