Bernadette stands in complete darkness, an unsettling odor filling the air around her. She tries to discern the source of the smell but can't identify it. The floor beneath her feels uneven, as if she's walking on garden soil.

Slowly, she makes her way forward, only to step on something sharp. Reflexively, she lifts her foot. "Ouch! What the hell is this?" she exclaims, squinting in the darkness.

Suddenly, the lights flicker on, revealing her computer room. Everything is as it should be: her desk, the computer in front of the window, and dozens of plants spread throughout the small room. "What's going on here?" she wonders aloud, her voice trembling slightly.

Her eyes are drawn to sharp pieces of pottery sticking out of the soil-covered floor. Terrified, she realizes that she almost cut herself on the shards. "Oh, come on, what’s this now?" she mutters, tightening the belt of her bathrobe. Discouraged, she wonders how she will clean up the mess when a noise grabs her attention—a discrete crackling sound, followed by another.

Bernadette looks around, then jumps and screams in terror at the sight of a humanoid shape under the desk, staring straight at her. She pulls herself together and demands in a firm voice, «Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment? »

The shadow silently lifts a finger. Bernadette hesitates, then follows its gesture with her eyes. Above the computer desk, a flowerpot suspended by the window is slowly cracking. Horrified, she watches as the crack widens. She wants to catch the pot but her body refuses to move, paralysed where she stands.

Sylvia Vazquez