Nope, nothing spooky happens!

Becky woke up in bed, naked.

She squirmed to the edge and with little fanfare dropped her feet from the warmth and comfort of the blanket.

The feeling of cold tile snapped her eyes open. The room was massive, some penthouse above the clouds. Wall to wall windows opened onto a chaotic panorama of urban jungle. The bed was in a corner and looked out over a river caged by an unending web of walkways and bridges.

The tile, while initially cold, quickly warmed beneath her feet. A first careful step was followed by another. She grew more confident as no alarms or guard dogs sounded to betray her to the owner of this place.

The area around the bed had a modern, almost futuristic aesthetic. All sleek lines and bold colors. As she moved towards the center the style marched in step back in time. The sleek and rounded lines gave way to the hard edges of Art Deco. At some point the floor had changed to wood beneath her feet. She passed a room with a crate of records and some speakers. After a second spent searching she found her dad's favorite record and sent it spinning. The first movement of Holst's The Planets sprang to life.

The sound follows her back out into the hallway and pushes her deeper.

The ground beneath her changes to packed dirt. She lets herself trail her hand along the rough stone wall.

She passes a straw bed covered in rough homespun cloth. On her right is a burning hearth. She feels the warmth of the fire on her naked flesh. A wooden chair covered with a worn woolen blanket sits next to the baked stone of the hearth.

Becky sits and reaches for the leather bound book that leans against the back right leg of her chair.

She traces the star on the cover and begins to read.