The walls of the house twitched and writhed as he sat there staring them down.
With every blink they moved closer somehow, became more detailed.
The former dining room was now barely six feet across.
He really shouldn't have walked into the old flat.
The armchair seemed to be the only stationary piece of furniture there.
The epicentre even as everything else had gradually dissolved with an acidic hiss.
He was perched rather precariously on it as the floor rocked the chair slowly.
It was almost soothing and he felt sleepier by the minute, gradually sliding down.
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