STUCK by Jake Johnson

In a world where zipper technology has been taken to the extreme…

I wake up. The morning light is refreshing as it peeks over the zipper of my mostly-closed curtains. My bed is comfortable, but I need to get up. Reluctantly I throw my body forward and snap myself into a sitting position.

The room around me is bare except for the entrances to the bathroom and the outside world. Thankfully, I’d made sure the previous night that their zippers were completely up. I look down and resist the urge to fall asleep again. I pull at the zipper closest to me, and it withdraws, racing up its line on the bed to the line on my right arm. The same happens to both of my legs. Finally awake, I start pulling on the last zipper.

It doesn’t move. The metal bites into my fingers as I pull, and soon I have to let go. I blow on my fingers and glare at the zipper. After gathering my strength, I return to the task and ignore the pain. It seems immovable, but I feel a small amount of release. I pull with newfound vigor and it gives way.

The metal line doesn’t unravel and I’m still stuck to the bed, but the zipper itself is now on my arm. I curse whatever physics or voodoo make this possible. I’m now furious, and I wrench the zipper back down its path, willing it to work properly. It opens the metal lines on the bed, but it opens the metal lines on my arm, too. I stare at it incredulously, as if I’d just witnessed an act of magic. My arm is bleeding. I try frantically to close the zipper again.

It closes the lines of metal on my arm and bed. I’m still stuck. I collapse in exhaustion.