It was Monday. He looked right through her. It was a queer sensation. He blinked a few times in confusion. One minute she had been giving an acceptance speech, and the next she was gone. All he heard was muffled sounds, as if he were being submerged under water. He could clearly make out the cabinets and counter directly behind her. Was she disappearing? Then came the applause around him, quickly at first, then slowed down as if someone were restricting the film. It was muffled too, an echo in the hollow void into which he was sinking. The people around him could seemingly still see and hear. They were still a part of the world, of the world's time. He was not.
Soon the others were not moving, or rather, not to the human eye. It was silent. They had slowed to a point that he was able see the individual molecules that made up their being. He walked towards them and with a wave of his hand, as if warding off an annoying insect, was able to brush aside the molecules and phase through the matter. He held one in his hand and observed the complexity of this one tiny block of life, and marveled at it's wonder.
Then a deafening snap filled his ears and he felt as though someone had shoved him violently backwards to his original position. Clapping crescendoed up from an echo and a form began to transfigure in front of the cabinets. "Let's have cake," she said. It took him a real world moment to realize that he was back on earth's time, watching them eat cake.
He wondered what Tuesday would be like.
