On a Bench

(*Author's note: I was a bit inspired by the Shirts line, and wanted to start something in a similar vein.*) But when he looked at his alarm clock, he saw that it wasn't there. In fact, nothing was there - not his alarm clock, night light, or the small cabinet that they rested on. He wasn't even in his bedroom anymore. He was sitting on a bench in Chesapeake Park. He'd been here many times. *How did I get here?* He stood up, and started walking. He had only gone a couple of steps before he noticed what he was wearing. This was not what he'd call interesting. But he'd never said it had to be interesting to **HIM**.