METAPHOR

Knife jumped awake, his head a bell clapper, his eyes a quick zooming lens. It took half a minute before he could focus his vision and brain.

His arm had telescoped out into a cannon. The gun pointed at somebody's chest.

The figure stood in the shadow without saying a word.

Knife cocked the gun, the click-click-click cutting through the surreal silence.

"What do you want?" he said. "What are you doing in my room?"