by an astounding coincidence, the only substance poisonous to audible digitised noise bats was copious quantities of properly brewed English Breakfast Tea.
She was sure the world had change subtly from the one she had been in before. Take size 16 pants for example, they had become malevolently small, and if you were living in a world where you couldn't even rely on St Michael of Knickers what hope was there for the future of humanity?
It was hot and crowded in the supermarket, the aisles were blocked by promotional goods, disgruntled teenagers, toddlers having tantrums, old grippers who couldn't remember what they'd come in for, men talking in a supercilious way to their wives, and the music playing was syrupy cheese. The woman with Tourette's summed it all up succinctly.
She was sure that alien bats on her MP3 player told her to kill the Queen, drink her blood and dance around in her skin because Her Majesty was descended from evil lizards. The nice lady from Napster said that there were no bats included in her free package, the voices could be 'known issues' with audible digitised noise when navigating the menu and if she held the line for 5 minutes, downloaded firmware, re-booted her computer, installed the program, reformatted the MP3 player and re-synchronised she could listen to Amy Winehouse instead.
After her accident she realised she had come back to a world almost the same as the one she had left, but not quite. As her aura streamed into the night she realised she was some kind of Avenging Angel.