It had been one of those evenings when Marlin had felt too lazy to cook, instead opting to make the eighteen or so minute walk over to the little Chinese takeout place near the Firebird and save on the delivery charge.

There was a definite n** in the air, a by-product of the lateness of the hour, although Marlin wasn’t too worried about how late it was – this was a relatively safe area as areas in Destiny City went. Besides it wasn’t like he was taking any unnecessary risks – despite the lack of people out and about – the route he was walking was a pretty well-lit one and was one he’d walked a fair deal of times.

He’d reached the takeout place in good time, the journey taking thirteen minutes instead of eighteen, the chill in the air inspiring him to walk a brisker pace than normal. His order hadn’t been ready though, despite the fact that he’d called ahead so Marlin had chatted good-naturedly with the lady at the front of the shop, while glancing absent-mindedly from time to time at the martial arts film playing on the television in the corner.

The lady had slipped him a bag of prawn crackers when his order had finally arrived. “For our best customer” she’d said winking at him.

Marlin knew it wasn’t true – he went often enough for the people to recognise his face, but not enough for them to automatically know what he wanted to order – but he’d thanked her with a grin, handed over the cash and started on the walk back, his order (free prawn crackers included) tucked into the white carrier bag swinging from his left hand.

The walk back seemed longer than normal, weariness settling around the strawberry blonde haired young man like a cloak – the odd yawn had even threatened to break out. It seemed a little odd the sudden tiredness – Marlin couldn’t recall being so tired earlier, but then again the shop had had a sudden rush of sales, with quite a few people seemingly suddenly interested in buying costumes – enough so to entail the necessity of a stock run.

Fancy a Change was an independent shop and outside of the Halloween period, Marlin pretty much made do on his own with his Dad popping in from time to time. Maybe not quite what he’d been expecting to do when he’d come back to DC from university, but not one he resented either – it paid the bills and hey not many people could say that they got to dress up in costume as part of their job.

Marlin cracked a yawn, seriously what was up with this sudden tiredness – yes it had been a pretty long day, but he was sure he’d had longer and he was pretty sure he’d gotten to bed at a sensible time and…

Marlin’s thoughts stuttered to a screeching halt as a floating slug like thing suddenly loomed up in front of him. What in the world? His footsteps coming to a stumbling halt and then tried to backpedal, to no avail, the last thing he remembered being the thing zipping forward at great speed.

Marlin came aware to the sound of a gruff voice, a man who looked to be around his forties peering anxiously. The bag with the takeout on the ground, where presumably he’d dropped it.

He was eventually able to reassure the man that it had been some sort of dizzy spell, had somehow made it home, had managed to put the bag with the takeout on the table in the flat’s kitchen before ending up sinking into the armchair in the living room.

It was there that he’d ended up falling asleep; with the next thing he knew it was morning. It was a rather stiff Marlin who got ready to go open up the shop that day, a single question in his mind that wouldn’t quite go away, even as he privately resolved that he would make this day an early night day – that floating slug-like thing – had it even been real or had it simply been a figment of an over-tired imagination?

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