For the first time ever, King James was speechless. He rubbed his eyes furiously but he was still nowhere. He knew that just a few moments ago, he was sitting on this throne where he belonged. All his subjects were bowing at his feet, where they belonged.

But now he nowhere. Literally. The floors were gone, he was standing on air. The walls were gone, replaced by endless nothing.

“Excuse me? Mr. Alans?”

The voice came from everywhere. King James spun around quickly and came face to face with a man, a rather plain looking man at that.

“Mr. Alans,” he said, “I do apologize, but we seemed to have had a glitch in your dream.”

The King found himself speechless a second time.

The man picked up a phone that wasn’t there a second ago. “Yes? Oh, yes. James Alans. File #1568-A-6264. Just shut it down.” He hung up the phone and it disappeared.

“Once again, I apologize Mr. Alans. Goodbye.”

James Alans woke up in a cold sweat. Something felt wrong. He felt like he lost something. Like a King who lost a kingdom.