Today it’s a teacup. It hangs quietly and meekly in front of him and glides simply. It’s the… fifteenth object. Or maybe the twenty-first. He’s lost count. He’s had a shoe, a pencil, a water bottle, a candle, and a lot of other objects drift near him already.

These objects seem to be tied to him with wire. When he moves, they move. Or might it be the other way? When they move, he moves. Either way, it’s inaccessible and he never gets to feel it.

He had wondered before how the objects would react if they were to encounter physical items. He’s tried backing the water bottle into a brick wall, but it just vanishes into the wall seamlessly like a figment of imagination. He was sure the objects were hallucinations for a while until he realised they were there no matter he forgot about them or not. So, he just started anticipating tomorrow’s object.

He can’t tell if the teacup’s filled with liquid or not. He carries it upstairs as the night spawns behind him.

He finishes dinner. Boiled eggs. A slice of toast. Ham. Canned peaches for dessert. Then he has some coke because why not.

As he downs the final sip of coke that sizzles in his stomach silently, he looks up and the teacup seems closer.

He starts his usual rest procedures. Lock the door from the outside. Lock the door from the inside. Shove the chair under the handle. Get a bottle of beer. Close the bedroom door. Lock it two times, then another chair under the handle. Shut the windows and lock them. Pull the steel covering shut firmly. Double-locked. Then he sits back in his bed, cracks open the beer, and takes a sip.

It's something cheap and easy, and in no time, he’s finished it. A little woozy but not much. He glances at the teacup. When does it go away, and when does the next object come? He’s experimented with that. 12:37:23 sharp. It’s only 11:06:21 now.

But halt. Is it moving closer? He can’t tell. He takes the wooden club under his bed anyway and prepares for it, suddenly aiming for his face. It doesn’t.

It simply floats into his palm, and he sees that it’s filled with clear water.

Then the water starts to overflow. It flows and flows and flows. He watches in confusion. But it overflows. He tries to throw it away. It is stuck to his pal,m and now he knows that, in fact, it is he who moves when the object dictates. It overflows and overflows. It overflows until it fills the room, and he cannot open his double and double locks.

He drowns in that teacup.