The Cherry Tree

I woke up on my side, leaning uncomfortably against the spindly branches of the cherry tree. A hand went to my head and I groaned. At this point I had already eaten several cherries, possibly into the double digits. Still, nothing looked like home. It seemed with almost every shift the atmosphere grew less normal. In one the air had been poisonous, I had hardly had the chance to eat the fruit before choking. In another, the ground had been replaced with a strange, shifting sand.