Eric awakes suddenly to the sound of something strange happening downstairs, something has fallen or has been knocked over perhaps. The digital clock on his bedside locker tells him that it is a little after four thirty and it is clear to see that it is pitch dark outside. The dawn of a new day is still a little bit away. There is a second sound, a burst of something else happening downstairs. This second sound makes him jump right out of bed in one swift motion, suspecting that a burglary is in progress.

For a second or two, Eric considers taking his alarm clock with him, in case he may need some sort of weapon as he goes to investigate the noise. As he does begin to go investigate, Eric remembers that his golf clubs are in a corner of the room, so he takes one, holds it with both hands, raises it over his left shoulder and then slowly begins to make his way downstairs.

It's dark heading down the stairs, darker than what it was or is in the bedroom, and Eric debates turning on a light. Before a decision is made or can be made, Eric notices a flickering light coming from within the kitchen. He sees the flashes of light reflect through the frosted glass panels of the closed kitchen door. Now holding the golf club with one hand, Eric uses his free hand to slowly open that kitchen door.

Once inside the kitchen, Eric can see that a small television to the far end of the adjoining dining area is on. It had not been left on prior to when he had gone to bed. An episode of Star Trek the Original Series has begun. Eric moves towards the television as the theme music plays and as it does play, something very strange happens, something very strange indeed.

Having moved into the dining area, he notices there is a sound coming from the kitchen area behind him, a melodic whistle is playing along to the music on screen. The television does not have surround sound. What Eric can hear both is and is not associated with what is on that television; it is something separate from the television, this whistle sound belongs to something else entirely. Things are about to get quite bizarre.

The plant on the inside windowsill, the very flower Eric brought home not all that long prior to this moment is vibrating and that whistling sound is also emanating from the plant itself. The plant is playing along to the theme tune on the television. Gob-smacked to say the least, Eric has no idea of what to make from what he sees and hears.

He moves close to the flower, watching, jaw dropped, being both amazed and somewhat disturbed. He now knows for sure; he has definitely acquired something more than what he bargained for. There is no way that this plant is as simple as it first had appeared to be.

Being barefoot, Eric soon discovers a cause of one of the sounds that had woken him, well at least a part of a cause. His keys are lying on the kitchen floor, and it is his bare right foot that makes this discovery. He lets out a slight roar of pain along with a blip of profanity. That roar and blip effectively ends the flowering whistle.

Odd on top of odd, it is as if the plant somehow reacted to its surroundings. This of course adds to Eric's amazement and intrigue, in regard to the plant that is, though as for his keys, well they should be hanging by the front door and not laying on the kitchen floor. Things though at this point are really only just beginning.

For most people, what has already happened is enough to make them get the hell out of dodge, bring back or get rid of what it is that they have acquired but not Eric, he is ready to do no such thing. What he is ready for at this particular moment is bed, despite what had just happened Eric definitely wanted to return to a land of slumber. There is oddness but nothing more than that.

The brief thought of wonder as to the possibility that he currently still is in a land of slumber and that none of this is actually real would be quickly dismissed, the keys he had stepped on are most definitely real, and this whole moment is very real, one being in no way any kind of dream.

Eric may be feeling quite suspicious though he does feel that there is no immediate or impending danger as he is confidently sure that the beautiful young Asian lady from the antiques store in downtown Chinatown, a lady with whom he had ever only met the once, would not have given him something which could cause him or anyone else any kind of harm. Nah, she wouldn't have given him something harmful, would she? Like c'mon, how dangerous can a small, whistling, quick growing flowering plant be?

When slumber did return, and return for real, it would take Eric on a bit of a journey, a journey through time, back to a time when Eric was just seven years old and, in the house, where his then best friend lived. See Eric's seven-year-old best friend, Shawn Matthews, had a Venus fly trap, a plant which is in itself somewhat strange and unusual.

The two friends purposely trapped whatever insects they could before 'feeding' these insects to this Venus fly trap. This memory coming in the form of a dream would also bring about memories of a cinematic voice calling out 'feed me Seymour, feed me.'

Waking for a second time, Eric would lay on his back for a moment or two allowing his mind to be as blank as it could possibly be while he just stared blankly up at the ceiling. He would soon move his head towards the alarm clock. The time was closing in on eleven and it would be the site of a golf club next to the alarm clock looking as if it were holding up the wall that would bring everything back, ending the moment of blankness and bringing back the flood that is the situation he finds himself in.

As soon as that flood did hit, Eric was up out of bed and ready to head straight back downstairs. All seemed quiet; all was quiet but maybe not all so well. Things looked alright, no melodic whistling, no vibrating, all was well apart from the fact that the plant had grown once again. It had grown roughly by half again, as it had done once before already though this time it had also developed a number of small vines. The flower had also closed in on itself, closed over into a head like shell of green.

'Oh, this is not good' Eric spoke to himself, 'this cannot be good at all.'

He would pause for a moment before thinking out loud 'I may need to get me a bigger pot, better yet ... I may also need to get my head checked.'

He would turn right around with the intention of leaving the kitchen when he would be stopped in his tracks.

'Greetings Earthling' speaks an echoing metallic voice.

Eric turns back around slowly; well, he more twists round with the top half of his body so he can get a good look at what he assumes may have just spoken to him. Relief soon hits him for he realizes that the voice he heard came from the television and not from that strange plant on the windowsill.

Like the night before, it came on somehow and apparently by itself, the television that is. Sci-fi still seems to be the running order, for some terribly created robotic alien from some old black and white film is on-screen.

'Take me to your leader ...'

'Ha' says Eric out loud. 'For a moment there I thought it was you who was speaking' he speaks as he now addresses the plant as if it were indeed some sort of intelligent life form.

Having switched the television off, Eric moves once more with the intent of leaving the kitchen but is stopped before he can even begin to take a step, stopped by the sound of another voice speaking.

'It's life Jim but not as we know it.'

The television had not come back on.

... Listen to me ... I'm not crazy ... they're here already ...