And then it flipped. It flipped once and it flipped again. And the room shifted, each large-scale object in a different corner. First, it went clockwise. The bed appeared by the window as the sunlight quickly descended, and the strings of stars were dropped, bouncing back and forth before they dangled into their decided positions. And the moon in all her glory painted lips and batting eyes slowly appeared to the surface of the sky. Her eyelids drooped as she watched the sun drop. As her milky tears evacuated her eyes, asteroids danced in orbit around her, before they grew weary of her presence, and made the choice of fiery emersion. They shattered into hundreds of glass shards, almost touching the man-made stars. And then it flipped. It flipped once and it flipped again. And the room shifted, upside down, all around, and the roof was the floor, the marble tiles grazing the sky. Around and around the spaceship spun until it settled on the ground.
