Cycle Oxford 2.0

Sunday morning. I wake up feeling cold despite the duvets which cover me. I have a weird feeling, in a bed which is not mine. I open a bit one eye. I look around and I see that I am in a small bedroom, rather smaller than mine. It is full of stuff still untidy. I recognise the stuff, it is mine. The walls have had the same sad wallpaper for very long time. The ceiling is also papered and the floor covered with an ugly carpet. It is a typical British house. It is cosy. There is a small window, facing a backyard, also small.

I hear some noises outside, on the ground floor, right under me. They sound like kitchen noises. I hear voices. I know who they are, but I hardly know them. They are not the people I am used to see every day in my house.

I keep watching everything like a man from the Stone Age frozen for millenniums and unfrozen now. I don't know what to do now nor where to go. I'm a bit disorientated, I don't feel safe and with self confidence. I am on a strange ground. I think I'll go downstairs to the kitchen and see if I can find anything to have breakfast. I'll get used soon. This is just the first morning in my new house after yesterday's move in.