I shrank my entire city down into a nutshell, quite literally. I wrapped it in foil and stuck it in my pocket for the commute to work. But just as I was about to walk out the door, I realized that my concept of space and time had been irreparably altered. Throwing the door off its hinges, I greeted the blankness that immediately enveloped me from every angle. I searched my pocket for the condensed metropolis, but that too had vanished. I shouldn’t have done such a foolish thing, especially before I’d had anything to eat for the day.