Fever dream

I had an early afternoon nap today—one of those sleepy-eyed slumbers where white flashes of light define and defy the eyelid’s weight. Where the mattress rushes to engulf while the ceiling recedes. Kind of like listening to Billie Holliday with Pink Floyd blasting from another room. Hard to process, but the mind does what it can.

When I awoke an hour later, it felt ethereal. There was no distinction between the dream and the dawning of reality. I kissed Alyssa in my sleep. Sometimes that’s the best you can hope for in the whispered overlap of temporal to temporary.