Paul Mathieson had led a very privileged life. Everything he ever wanted was handed to him on a plate. His parents were wealthy, so as a child he wanted for nothing, a sizeable trust fund was set up so he never had to worry about cash in his young adulthood. Yet with all these advantages, Paul had no work ethic. He seemed to just coast through life, not wanting to work for anything. He figured the world owed him a living and that his mere existence should be rewarded with money. It is probably that reason why Paul was stuck in a dead end position in spite of all life has given him. Paul was getting close to forty now, and had been in the same position for ten years. It wasn’t as if there was no room for growth, several people had passed through working similar roles to Paul in his company, but he never put in any effort, never went the extra mile, always did the bare minimum. It’s this attitude which was probably why he disliked Judy.

Judy was in her early twenties and was the diametric opposite to Paul. Nothing was handed to her, she had to scrap for every last penny. It was through sheer hard work and working 3 jobs which sent her to her degree, her role in the company was her first in the adult world, and she was tipped for greatness. She was really going places, and Paul didn’t like it. As he pulled his Porsche into the parking lot, he caught sight of Judy getting out of her beat up Jetta. He sneered at her from in his car, such a piece of junk shouldn’t be allowed in the same lot as his pride and joy. He watched as Judy walked into the office, her black hair bouncing with every step. Paul had to admit she was very attractive, but her attitude annoyed him. Always so eager to please, who was she kidding. Life was easy, she made it look like such a chore. Judy was in a lilac blouse, navy pants and a pair of simple black flats. Paul grimaced at this, Judy was always slipping her shoes off and stinking up the office. Paul always took it upon himself to let her know this was happening.

Today would be a good day, they were announcing the employee award, and with it the recipient of a week’s vacation to California. Paul knew he couldn’t lose, he had his boss wrapped around his finger, with the promise of a big personal contribution to his retirement fund. Paul walked into the office and sat at his desk. Behind him, Judy was sat at hers, already at work on her projects. He scoffed at her, why was she such a try hard?

As the day drove on, Paul began to smell something pungent, yet familiar. He turned around to Judy to confirm his suspicions. Yep, she had her feet out of her shoes again. She was always doing it, no matter how many times he told her how sick it made everyone feel. How could she be so selfish, granted he was the only one who complained, but that must surely be because the others were just too shy to say. They should be thankful to Paul for keeping them safe from toxic foot odour.

“Judy, Chemical weapons are illegal, please stick your feet back in your shoes!” Paul smirked to himself at his joke. Sheepishly, Judy slipped her shoes back on and mumbled an apology. Paul caught sight of a co-worker rolling his eyes at him, as if he wasn’t thinking it.

Hours passed in the workday without event until Mitchell Sanderson, the managing director entered the office to announce the winner of the ‘top employee’ award. Paul sat back in his chair, expectant. He knew he was going to win and all it took was buying Sanderson membership of an elite golf club. This ‘work’ stuff was easy.

“Gather round” Sanderson called “Now as you all know the employee award can only be given to someone who has done exceptional work”

“Yeah, for his social status” Paul heard someone mutter. They were just jealous

“So I’m delighted to give Paul Harris the award and weeks’ vacation to San Diego!” A reluctant round of applause ambled out through the office. There were a few eye rolls and tuts, but everyone knew how the office really worked. Except Judy, being relatively new, the corruption was new to her. Paul savoured her look of injustice before going back to work… or playing solitaire to be more accurate.

The day carried on as normal, Paul sent a few e-mails delaying any work he had to do to the next day... or at least the next day he takes a vacation. Paul went home that night satisfied he'd done what he did best; the bare minimum. After a productive evening of watching TV and drinking it was time for him to get a good night's sleep. He drew the curtains, but as he did, he thought he saw a dark figure out on his lawn. He immediately opened the curtains again, scanning the dimly lit scene. There was no one. Paul lived in a well to do neighbourhood, so crime wasn't common, but just to be sure he checked his alarms were active. Safe that he was now intruder-proof, Paul slipped into bed and drifted off.

Paul woke up sat at a desk in a white room. The room looked like a normal office, but everything inside was just white. From the filing cabinet to the clock, even the hands of the clock were white. Paul wondered to the window, but there was no glass, just an opaque white sheet. Paul was trying to recall how he got there when a man entered the office. He too was in all white, wearing a smart business suit and a trilby hat. He had a handsome face with jet back hair. His eyes seems weird though, his iris's seemed to be pure white making his eyes seem small.

"Mr Mathieson" He said in a subtle British accent "Glad to make your acquaintance" The mystery man offered his hand, Paul took it nervously

"What is this?" Paul asked.

"This is my office" The man explained "I am the spirit of true justice, and you are of particular interest to us Paul"

"Spirit of true justice" He asked "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it'd probably take too long to describe properly. Let's just say I give people what they deserve"

"And what do you want with me?"

"Well Paul, it seems to me you do an awful lot and never get what's coming to you. I want to offer you something. A job"

"What kind of job?"

"Your perfect job. A job where if you do it, you'll never have to worry about money again. It has the appearance of hard work whereas in reality you don't actually have to do anything. Plus it's always nice and warm. What do you say? Doesn't that sound perfect for you?"

"This is a dream, isn't it?" Paul said, finally verbalising a suspicion that had long been building

"Sort of" The spirit conceded

"Then why can't I wake up. I want to wake up"

"That's why I said 'sort of'. This isn't a dream, but you are in a dream state. Difference being that you have no control here. I do"

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing, I've already told you what's going to happen. You're going to wake up and be in your new job"

"is that it? I wake up tomorrow and I have a new job. How will I know where to go, what to do"

"Trust me that won't be a problem" The whiteness of the room started to increase, until it was blinding "So long, Mr Mathieson, we will meet again" And that was the last thing Paul head before he snapped back to reality.

It was odd coming back to consciousness for Paul. He could swear he never opened his eyes but he could see that he was under his covers. He tried moving out of them, but his body didn't respond. He wasn't sure he could feel his legs... or his arms... or even his torso. He could feel his head, but it didn't feel like his head, the hair he could usually feel at the top of his body was replaced by what felt like sensitive protrusions. His face also felt flat, though his body contorted slightly. There was a grey area where his sense of feeling just faded out. It was if he was incomplete, like there was a part of him where he felt nothing.

He struggled to get his head around his predicament, his thoughts interrupted by a shrill electronic drone. It was an alarm clock, but not one he knew of. Was he even in his house? The drone stopped then he heard a feminine yawn, given he lived alone, this definitely wasn't his house. Suddenly his body moved involuntarily, he felt himself stretch, the protrusions atop his body straightening out. Then the world started to move... no he was being moved. Some unseen force was pushing him along the sheets. His vision started to blur as he was being moved so quick, however he saw himself being thrust into a navy blue wall fast. Paul tried to brace himself for impact, but his lack of mobility prevented ness. As a force from behind him pushed him into the wall, he felt himself being squeezed and bent as he was pressed further. The wall was soft, not that it helped him, his vision being blacked out as the force pressed hard. It was painful, but not in the way he expected, he was expecting a broken nose, but no matter how hard he was pressed, he couldn't feel his nose.

He also didn't feel like anything was straining against the pressure, it was as if he was built to handle such force being exerted onto him. Coarse pieces of dirt that clung to the wall now attached themselves to him. It wasn't long before Paul felt his body bend, then lift up in the air. He couldn't get a focus on what was around him as he was being moved too fast. It wasn't long before he was being thrown into the wall again, but this was a different part of the wall. Again and again, he was lifted then pushed back into the wall, he almost didn't notice when the wall changed from soft and fuzzy to smooth and cold. It was on this new wall that he was pressed into the wall then stayed for several minutes. He realised that his face wasn't fully flat, his face was warped slightly as he could see light out of one of the sides of his body. He couldn't make much out though, his entire world view was so weird.

Finally Paul was moved again, once again returning to the soft wall to be pounded into. After a brief rearrangement, he finally stopped being moved and instead of being pressed against a wall, he was in the middle of a huge room. The room looked like an average living room, but everything seemed much bigger. His body was resting on a large wooden surface, Paul scanned around for clues to his situation. Paul was shocked as he noticed through a nearby window that Judy was there, nonchalant. She was eating cereal with her feet on a coffee table, not looking at all at the window where Paul was suffering so.

Then the penny dropped. Paul wasn't looking through a window, he was looking at a mirror. Everything that had happened to him this morning suddenly made sense. Paul wasn't bound and pushed into a wall at all, they weren't even walls. They were floors. He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but the evidence of what he saw before him was incontrovertible. Paul was now one of Judy's feet, just a body part of another human being. There was nothing Paul could do except scream.