Um carro no meio da sala de estar

If you wake too late for work one morning, spring from bed, dress quickly, then rushing to the front door find it blocked by your car standing in the middle of the living-room, the furniture moved back against the walls; if you discover this you will not feel afraid at first, you will think that you have not really wakened at all. And when a careful examination shows the car as solid as usual, and undoubtedly your own, and if you find the room solid too, with the wallpaper pattern undisturbed, making it unlikely that a jocular friend has suddenly become a millionaire and hired a team of expert workmen silently to knock a hole, insert the car, then swiftly reconstruct the wall exactly as it was - if the consistency of things shows you are in a world like the usual, apart from one inexplicable oddity - then only a pessimist will return to bed hoping to fall asleep again in the usual world he understands. I would walk round the car, open the door and adventure out, fearful, of course, like all explorers in a strange world, but hoping for something new and better. I would have to see everything as a child does, letting the things themselves teach me what they were, knowing my grasp of them was secondary and slight.

Alasdair Gray, 1982, Janine