As a treat, here is a (very) short story, based on a recurring dream/nightmare I have had for the last 10 years or so. I am sure someone out there can use it to determine exactly what is wrong with my brain! Here you are.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I reach over and knock a multitude of items from the bedside table before hitting the correct button on the alarm clock. Another Monday morning and another struggle to get out of bed. I hate Mondays. I'm like that cartoon cat, the ginger one who eats lasagne. Granville or something. What was his name?
Five more minutes. I deserve that, don't I? I roll over towards my wife and press my chest against her back. She's incredible. I still can't believe it, of all the people she could have married she chose me. She said yes, to me. Three years later, my stomach still does somersaults when she smiles at me, my heart races as I watch her undress for bed.
Three years. We even have a cat around here somewhere. It won't be long until it's a baby.
I kiss her shoulder and work my lips along her neck. My hand slides onto her stomach and begins to move upwards, cupping her left-
Garfield! That was his name, Garfield. Always picked on the dog, Odie I think his name was. I really loved that show as a kid.
“Let me sleep,” she mumbles beside me, moving my hand from where it lay.
Fine. Get up, get showered, get shaved, and get ready for work. Oh man, do I hate Monday mornings.
I stagger across the landing and into the bathroom. My eyes are barely open as I squeeze some toothpaste onto my brush and clean my teeth. One more step along the morning routine.
The mirror's already beginning to mist over. I wipe it with the flannel-
Did I? It didn't, did it?
I must have gotten up too quickly. I'm light headed I think.
Cold water, splashing on my face. That'll makes me feel better, wakes me up a bit. I'll have to try to remember to tell her when she wakes up. She already thinks I'm crazy, now I can tell her my reflection has stopped copying me.
Yeah, right. I suppose it's a better reason for not shaving than 'I just couldn't be both-
That really happened, didn't it? I didn't, I mean, it didn't. He.
I close my eyes and rub them.
I'm still asleep. This is a dream, that's all. I'm dreaming. Come on, wake up now. Wake up.
I open my eyes. He's looking at me. It, me. I'm looking at me.
Come on, wake up. Pinch myself. Not hard enough. Pinch harder, nails this time.
He's smiling now, at me. I'm not smiling.
Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod.
He's smiling at me.
I want to run. My legs won't move. Why won't my legs move? I want to run, to get away.
Why is he smiling like that?
Please, let me go. Let me go. Why won't my legs move?
He just keeps smiling at me.
WHAT HAS HE GOT TO SMILE ABOUT?
Any feedback is greatly appreciated!