I blink a few times trying to remember what…Oh, right. I got up for a glass of water. I usually set one by my bed before I go to sleep. Don’t know why, but I’m usually thirsty in the middle of the night. But I’m standing at the foot of my bed. I don’t see a glass of water. That seems strange. How did I get here? Here, where I’m standing right now. Did I come from the kitchen? If so, why don’t I have a glass with me? And if I just got out of bed why am I facing it? Pushing these thoughts aside I turn to leave when I spot movement at the edge of my vision. The folds of my sheets shifting, like a nest of snakes underneath.
I blink a few times and wonder what I…But now I am quite confused. I just turned to leave my room, but something stopped me. My bed, something about my bed happened. I’m not sure what. It’s as if the more I try and grasp for the thought the faster it recedes. Okay, water, I had gotten up to—Well, no, now hang on. I already have water. After a sip I sit on the edge of my bed and try to recall what just happened. I woke up, went to the kitchen, got a glass of…But I don’t recall doing that. I must have though, because the glass is right here.
I blink a few times. Okay, hang on. Now where’s the glass, I was just sitting on on the edge…The covers move again, that nest of…No, too big for that. I’m tempted to remove the covers to see what’s there, but I’m worried I know what I’ll see. I tell myself I’m awake. I have to be. I’m standing here. But that tossing and turning under the sheets. A raspy breathing. A dry throat.
I blink a few times. I want to crawl back into bed, but I think I’m already there.
I blink a few times. I’m awake. I just blinked, I have to be awake.
I blink a few times. Am I awake or dreaming? I wish I knew.
I blink a few times, turn to leave, I’m thirsty.