She was quite overwhelmed, to say the least. All the wheels in her head were spinning wildly, like a bike wheel after the chain popped off, but no matter how she twisted and turned and reasoned with herself, she just reached the same conclusion.
She was not sleeping. Not dreaming. And she was not at home.
Her wild staring around made her spot the approach of the person quite a while before he was within hailing distance. Numbly, she just stood there and stared at him until he noticed her in return. It was just a kid. Or well. Not really, but he looked too young to be of any real help either. Not when her breath came in short gasps and panic was mounting like some tsunami after an earthquake.
"Uhm..." came the helpful response, when he asked about her state of being. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Everything's just peachy." It was a complete lie of course. Things had never been less fine in her life."I.. uhm.."
How did you explain this? How was she supposed to explain the panic of being taken from your warm, cozy apartment in the middle of the night - alright, pre-dawn was more like it - and dropped in... wherever... dressed in saggy flannel bottoms, a spaghetti top linen with sweat stains and chocolate crumbs down the front, and sleep lines still etched in the cheek?
The guy looked concerned, and she really couldn't blame him. She was concerned too. To put it mildly.
"I.... should go home," she said, and turned on tender feet, to look again for the bathroom door. It still wasn't there.
She was acutely aware of his eyes on her, and the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra.Was this the kind of dream then, where you walked around without underwear and har to suffer the humiliation until you woke up?
She was not sleeping. Not dreaming. And she was not at home.
Her wild staring around made her spot the approach of the person quite a while before he was within hailing distance. Numbly, she just stood there and stared at him until he noticed her in return. It was just a kid. Or well. Not really, but he looked too young to be of any real help either. Not when her breath came in short gasps and panic was mounting like some tsunami after an earthquake.
"Uhm..." came the helpful response, when he asked about her state of being. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Everything's just peachy." It was a complete lie of course. Things had never been less fine in her life."I.. uhm.."
How did you explain this? How was she supposed to explain the panic of being taken from your warm, cozy apartment in the middle of the night - alright, pre-dawn was more like it - and dropped in... wherever... dressed in saggy flannel bottoms, a spaghetti top linen with sweat stains and chocolate crumbs down the front, and sleep lines still etched in the cheek?
The guy looked concerned, and she really couldn't blame him. She was concerned too. To put it mildly.
"I.... should go home," she said, and turned on tender feet, to look again for the bathroom door. It still wasn't there.
She was acutely aware of his eyes on her, and the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra.Was this the kind of dream then, where you walked around without underwear and har to suffer the humiliation until you woke up?
