Sleepy 2022

 End chairs and coffee tables flew across the living room, and the rug curled back and slid into the hallway.

The potted plants knocked themselves out of its holder, and all the kitchen drawers emptied their cutlery. The chair I sat in levitated, as did the ones my wife and our neighbor sat in. My youngest sister lay fast asleep on the love chair, dead to the world. The front door flew open, and an errant wind danced about in the living room, sending magazines and anything else that was not tethered down to fly wildly around us. It took the alarm clock to go off suddenly, which caused my sister to sit up straight and ask, "What's going on?" 

It is also precisely when everything stopped, and I glanced at my wife and our neighbor and said, "Same lessons tomorrow? Levitation and conjuring?"

"Agreed," my wife and our neighbor harmonized. "Same time tomorrow."