as the klaxon did its thing, the bed erupted into a flurry of fur and feathers. i emerged into the blaring half morning from the confused ball and stumbled over to the off switch. in the following silence i examined myself to ensure that all my parts were intact and that my head was screwed on correctly. a feather floated oh so quietly to the floor. later, i had an ounce or so of metal removed from my head and then traded pieces of paper with numbers on them for other pieces of paper with different numbers on them. life was good until i hit the dining hall. permanent leftovers.