I'm standing at my old bedroom window, and I look down. The back garden is a good distance below me, and there are lots of people down there. I'm not sure what's going on, whether there is some occasion that I'm forgetting or there are just a lot of people over for no other reason than it's a beautiful summer's day. It really does seem a lot further, it should only be three stories down... But it seems like ten... And there is no glass in the window...
The glare of the sun blinds me for a second, and I realise that I'm dreaming. I feel myself smile, and looking down I can just about make out people waving at me to join them. I check the glassless window - there's something there, but it's pliable, vague. The house is more than three stories, and I know that it should be just the three. I must be dreaming.
I step onto the ledge, my foot pushing through the indistinct glass, look down and see the people waving at me to join them and I know I'll be fine if I just fall. Maybe I'll fly, maybe I'll drop but I know I'll be fine. I step up and go to push out -
Panic pulls at me and I stumble backwards from the window, as a voice echoes one thought through my head: "What if I'm not dreaming?"
Then I woke up.
1 comment:
Odd.
I hate it when I wake up, like, 3 minutes before my alarm is set to go off...
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