I open my eyes – close them, certain I’ve seen that time before.
I had been roused from a dream – a recurring dream of navigating myself and my son across jagged rocks while the ocean waves came dangerously close.
Pushing him along and up to the safest route.
The rocks are black.
The waves sweep in and over – then back out.
I keep inching along.
I decide it is important to remember this. I reach down to the floor, grasp my diary and write in the darkness.
The pen falls from my hand.
I find sleep once again.
The room is bathed in light. If I needed to, I feel I could have left my bed to start the day – but I’m remembering long days and a stressed heart.
I need my rest.
Where is the light coming from?
I try to remember if it was a full moon.
I find sleep.