Timber and Brass

One second, simple grain and stillness. The next—absolute catastrophe: consciousness. My middle chin twitched, my top brow furrowed, and all three of my carved mouths tightened into a collective grimace. We are awake, and nobody asked for our consent. Right beside me looms a goofy green plush creature clutching a miniature golden saxophone. I leaned half a millimeter forward, testing my own weight, and tapped the rim of its shiny plastic horn with my wooden nose. Clink. The metallic rattle sent a jolt down my spine. The world is loud, unstable, and clearly heading downhill fast.