Breakfast In Cuckoo Land

Sam Tossed and turned in his sleep. The bed sheets were drenched
with sweat. He pondered for a moment, "What have I been dreaming
about?"

It started off like any other sleep. Sam went to Bed at 10.30pm. He
settled down and was soon asleep. Then the dream began.

Sam was walking down a long, long corridor. The floor was covered in
tiles. They made a black and white chequered pattern. The cleaning lady
had just been along and mopped over the floor. As Sam walked on the
mopped area, he noticed he was leaving footsteps for them to follow.
Who they were he didn't know, but the footsteps were a bad thing. He
walked the remainder of the way down the corridor backwards, taking
large steps and ensuring his footsteps appeared in single file. "This
will throw them off", Sam thought to himself.

Safely down the corridor, Sam noticed the toilets. He stepped off the
corridor; no one was following, "good". Sam went in to the nearest
cubicle. He sat down on the toilet and crossed his legs, staring at the
back of the closed door. A fly came in and began to buzz about him. Sam
panicked. The fly was a "bug". Not an insect, an actual listening /
spying device. It was a radio controlled one. Everything its eyes saw
and ears heard was relayed back to them in the control room.

At that moment, they were watching him staring straight ahead,
completely motionless. Why were they watching him? What had he done?
Sam leapt up from the toilet, landing squarely on his feet. The fly
buzzed about his head. Quickly, Sam removed a slipper. He swatted at
the fly several times before he finally made contact. The fly was stuck
to the side of the cubicle. He bolted out of the door and back on to
the main corridor. Sam remembered the floor. Though it was now dry, it
was still patterned. What if they followed the pattern? Surely that
would lead them to him?

Sam removed his slippers and continued along the corridor. He stepped
from white to white as he traversed the corridor. He pushed up against
one side of the corridor wall and followed it snugly. Stepping on only
white squares, Sam reached the end of the corridor in double time. He
checked both left and right, no one there. He looked behind, no one
there. Sam made a run for the nearest exit. Safely outside, he squinted
in the sunlight. It must be late afternoon. The sun was low in the sky.
"October", Sam thought.

On the other side of a grassed area, Sam could see a wall. "Maybe I
could climb it?" Sam said out loud. There were a number of people
outside. None of them seemed to notice him. He walked nonchalantly
across the sandy path, which divided the grassed area. There were
flowerbeds lining each side of the grass. Sam looked and smelled the
flowers like he might be a tourist. Eventually, he reached the wall.
Sam guessed it must be at least 3m high. "No chance of climbing that
then!"

Panic hit Sam. Footsteps. He'd left footsteps on the path. He raced
back over to the far end of the path. He got on his hands and knees and
crawled backwards, back toward the wall. As he progressed, he raked the
sand with his hands and concealed his path. The people in the grounds
didn't even see Sam. "Strange". Back at the wall, Sam realised he had
no way of getting over. The light had completely diminished. If anyone
had been following, they wouldn't be able to see him now. Sam walked
back across the path. He judged it must be safe to re enter the
building; after all, no one had followed him. Or had they?

He opened the door and once again was confronted by the corridor and
its floor. Sam, again thinking that they maybe watching, used the black
tiles this time. He got back to his room and lay on the bed. It was now
10.30pm. He began to dream.

The following morning he was woken as usual by the nurse. "Breakfast
time, Sam." Said the nurse. "Come on, wake up Sam. Here is your
medicine." The nurse popped two tablets in to his mouth. She offered
him a glass of water. "Your head wont get better if you don't take your
medicine." Then Sam remembered. He was in the local hospital for the
mentally ill. There was no them or they. There was no dream. That was
Sam's life, for the moment anyway.

He stepped out of his room and in to the corridor. The floor was
covered in tiles. They made a black and white chequered pattern. The
cleaning lady had just been along and mopped over the floor. As Sam
walked on the mopped area, he noticed he was leaving footsteps for them
to follow??????.