07:10 is the time being displayed on Eric's bedside digital clock. Still in dreamland Eric hears music, disco music, Donna Summer's I Feel Love in fact. Unbeknown to him, Eric is in a way dancing in his bed as he lays on his back and still sleeping. His face looks happy and the dream he is in, if indeed he is dreaming, is a pleasant one to say to the least.

Ooh it's so good, it's so good, it's so good, it's so good, it's so good.

Sticking out of the bed rugs, the left foot begins to tap, and the right foot soon follows, the legs begin to move, the shoulders are rotating before his arms and hands join the party, and indeed, be it within a dream or anything otherwise, it does feel so good.

Ooh I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love.

The left leg wiggles, moves and soon extends out of the bed. The left foot makes contact with the floor. With eyes closed shut, Eric is soon all the way out of bed and up on his feet, more than that ... he is still dancing, his whole body is moving, more so than what he was while he had been on his back in bed. Sleep walking dance style ... sleep or state of mind ...

Moving sideways almost drab like to the left, moving to the right in a similar fashion, hands in slightly open fists at chest level, one rises and the other drops then they swap and repeat. One eye opens, then the other. Eric is now quite awake, a bit groggy in his mind though his body is certainly anything but groggy; and he is not at all sure of what it is that is happening.

Up on his feet, standing next to, dancing next to the bed he had gone to sleep in, what a very strange way to wake indeed, not at all something Eric would expect in any way, shape, or form. If anyone had been watching, he would be at a total loss with providing an explanation.

The music is still playing, loud and clear but not from within the room he is in, it had seemed to be within his dream or within his mind as he danced such is the growing odd connection which appears to have come his way. Since he is awake, it has become clear that the music is not something from within a dream. Something like this, is something Eric would have never considered and if he had then he would never have never though it possible. If he could bottle this connection, bottle the idea of being able to place a sound directly into the mind, then he surely would do it and make one heck of a profit from it.

Eric still feels a very strong urge to dance though he manages to resist. This dancing urge and or the connection he has got going is what had him dancing in his sleep, there is something euphoric in it, even with sleep being involved, and yeah, there would be dollar signs in something like that if it were at all marketable.

A moment passes then he moves quickly to the source of the music, making his way out of his bedroom, down the stairs, then through the hallway and into the kitchen where the sight of all sights greets him.

That radio on the kitchen worktop is on and at full blast, playing that song. Donna Summer's I Feel Love. It's a wonder that the neighbours have yet to complain, possibly something which may be about to happen. The music however, that is just the beginning. The plant has taken up a position in the sink as by this very moment it has become at least five times the size it had been when Eric first acquired it and is much too large simply to sit on a windowsill ledge.

The flower has closed in on itself once again, and the plant really has become something much more than what it had been. Leafed vines extend from the stem and the plant as a whole is dancing, not only that but it is singing too, yeah, it is actually singing, with sound and all.

More than that, the plant appears to have taken on a persona. Plants don't take on personas but this one seemingly has. It certainly seems to be alive and is as if it thinks itself to be female, human female at that. That can't be normal, right? Most definitely not, maybe the strangest thing of all is that it is indeed singing along to the song on the radio. It somehow has a voice, a feminine voice, and lips right where the plant head has closed over, lips which look in themselves to be ... feminine.

Eric stands; frozen solid to the spot as if someone had called out to him freeze and freeze is exactly what he did. Hands in mid-air, eyes wide open locked in a trance, jaw dropped mouth wide open. His acquisition is huge, in his sink, dancing and singing along to Donna Summer's I Feel Love before having its own freeze moment. Its mind knows his, sees his, and acts accordingly.

Thirty, forty seconds pass and Eric's left hand begins to move, it moves in the general direction of the radio, his arm stretching out, but he is too far away to reach it. Even though he feels calm, this all is so unusual there is a certain fear to it, a plant has basically come to life, it thinks it is human, heck, this is nowhere close to being an everyday moment.

With trepidation, he takes one step forward with his left foot but is still too far away. His aim of course is to turn off the music. The 'head' of the plant, still dancing in between moments where it freezes still, backs up slightly in response to Eric's movements. Eric takes another step forward, this time with his right foot.

His hand reaches out before receiving a slap like tap from a vine extending from the plant. He pauses in reaction only for a moment hen he makes a quick burst, moving to the radio and pulling the plug out of the socket before quickly backing up and resuming his own frozen stance.

'Spoilsport' says the plant speaking cheekily in the same female voice with which it had been singing.

Eric says nothing. He just stands and looks, unable to think, unable consider anything.

'What's wrong? ... Cat got your tongue? ... Never seen a talking plant before?'

Eric still says nothing. That female voice, it's kinda sexy, seductive, almost tauntingly so. Whatever it is that is going on, it is this strange connection, this overwhelming feeling, an almost relaxing sensation, which has prevented Eric from bolting completely. It is as if he is somewhat comfortable in this moment while also having a what the hell? moment at the same time.

'Don't tell me that I don't even get a "good morning". Now that is not how a lady should be treated first thing in the morning. As if last night meant nothing ...'

The arm like vines extend forwards onto and passed Eric's shoulders, embracing him, and playfully messing with the hair at the back of his head. Turning his head slightly, staring at these vines, finally Eric would speak.

'Whoa, whoa. What the hell is happening here?'

'Don't act all innocent sweetie, we are both grown-ups here, give me five minutes and I'll have you feeling better than you've ever felt before.'

The plant blows a kiss at Eric and Eric breaks the 'embrace' of sorts and backs up a few steps. This is crazy, complete, and utter madness. ... A couple of hours pass, and Eric is out walking with Mike.

'What? ... Don't tell me you made love to your plant?'

'No ... I most certainly did not, you're being silly now. I'm telling you Mike; I feel like I am in the friggen Twilight Zone or something.'

'It sure sounds like it. So, you just left it there in your sink? I am not saying I don't believe you or anything, but have you tried to do anything or told anyone about it? Maybe take it back to where you got it?'

'I've only told you my friend, I'm not crazy and it's not like I wouldn't be locked up or something if I told anyone else about any of this; sure, I understand you probably think I have totally lost it as it is. I'm sure too that the neighbours reckon that something is going on. Then there is this feeling I have though, that the Asian lady who gave me this thing knew exactly what she was doing. She's testing me or something. Besides, with the way it is now, I'm not sure I could manage with bringing it back.'

'This is all very odd indeed.'