Ta'an yawned, mouth open wide, choking on the fumes coming from next door. He'd almost forgotten. The dreams had sent his mind's eye to another realm, and he'd almost forgotten who he was... where he was.

He heard his neighbours laughing, while they grunted like pigs. It hadn't been a yawn he'd woken up on then... Choking or yawning, it was getting difficult to tell the difference any longer. It happened too often, and the dreams had almost made him forget. 

He looked at his smartwatch. His SPO2 had hit a 60% low. An hour or two every night probably wouldn't kill him. It might leave him permanently brain damaged, but it wasn't an immediate threat to his life. He knew this from experience. 

"Good morning, neighbour. Taking in the fresh air?" he heard a voice in his head, which he ignored. Voices, inside his head, or outside, were most often ignored. That was the only way to deal with them. " We could hear you snoring, even with your windows all closed."

Poisoning the air would probably do that to a person, Ta'an thought, but quelled the thought. His neighbour heard it anyway, and began to laugh out loud. Just another Friday. 

Breakfast: coffee -1 litre

Toast - 2 slices

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He watered his plants, wondering when the orchids would bloom. It wasn't the right season. 

As he put his watering can away, he saw an apple zip past the window and crash into his forehead. 

"EAT YOUR FRUIT!" she said.

He opened his mouth and stood on the tips of his toes. He didn't feel a thing. The lingering scent of apples wafted through his room. 

"Tim Cook," he said, before he could stop himself. 

"Nope. Try again."

He felt an apple hit his head, but it didn't hurt. And then it vanished, to wherever the previous one had gone, he assumed. 

"Houdini," he tried again. 

"DEAD!" she said, in a sepulchral voice.

"Datartrix?"

"DEAD!!!" she cackled, like a witch. 

"Naronweenie?"

"DRAIN DUTY."

Ta'anamywo scratched his head. He had no idea what they were both talking about now. The words just came out. 

"EAT YOUR FRUIT!" she said, and vanished.

He went to his kitchen, and threw all his apples in the garbage. He wondered if the collectors would pick it up today. They liked to make a mess of things... They were in the wrong line of work. 

While he was putting out his trash, the man across the street stared daggers at him. "Find Jesus, or die. I hired a carpenter, just for you. Your cross will be delivered soon. Prepare for the marathon. I've already got the cat-o-nine. Didn't think I'd be so good at it!" He created an imaginary whip and whistled, cackling with glee.

Ta'an ignored him, and walked away. The problem with telepathic communication was Babel... Confusion and madness were beginning to go viral, and he'd found one way of dealing with it: Do nothing; Think nothing!

But he couldn't help ruminate on the taste of apple sauce. It had been a while...