Walking down the hall

 

My eyes snapped open. It was like a hand reaching into the bed and pulling me onto the floor. The floor was cold, there was only a dull orange filtering through from the street, I couldn’t get my bearings, but I had to follow where it was taking me, tripping over the dark shapes of the unidentified floor ornamants set out haphazardly on the way to bed in what seemed all too recently memory as I finally made it to the bedroom door.
The hall is long, I peered down with my bleary eyes to the end which receded as I failed to focus on it. I was given no time to make sense of it, I was drawn towards that hellish glow, I supported myself by leaning on the wall, I may even have tried to slow myself down, but there was nothing I could do, it had me, body and soul it owned me and I had to do it’s bidding. I opened the door, the light was harsh, my eyes watered as I lifted a hand up to protect them. I stood on the brink and gave myself over, I couldn’t fight, I was too weak. Weak? I was lying, I wanted this, I wanted it so badly, I didn’t care anymore.
I could however lessen the frequency of these middle of the night toilet trips if I drank less tea before bedtime.

2 thoughts on “Walking down the hall

  1. It’s the toasted cheese before lights out that usually does for me, but last night it was the hot chocolate – the proper way, with hot milk – and it was the end of the tin, so there was slightly more than the usual 3 heaped spoonfuls, it frothed up almost to the consistency of a light mousse, and you savour every mouthful, knowing you’ll pay for it but caring not a jot.

    And isn’t it amazing just how much you can see once your eyes adjust to the dark, as you lie there awake, more alert than you were the whole day previous….

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