Blades of Grass

Air

     Beads of sweat collected across my skin, some joined to form trickles that were pulled by gravity. My throat burned whilst my mouth despaired for moistness, I swished my tongue across the inside of my cheeks but lack of salvia deepened my panic. Frantically, I surveyed my surroundings for signs of destruction butz alas, all I could see was blackness tinted with blue sillouttes that the moon was held responible for. Although the realisation that I was not in danger crept into my awakening consciousness, my heart still raced and whipped my lungs to hyperventilate, my stomach lurched as it rhythmically sucked in on itself and burst back out to satisfy my adrenalin's desperation for oxygen. My frantic state began to cease and my chest began to suckle the precious air surrounding me more deeply until my breath became shallow, almost non-existent. I sighed. Sweeping the damp hair from my flustered cheeks I tried to bring myself to my senses. It was just a dream... albeit that dream. It wasn't new to me, infact, it was a regular occurrence as of late, I'd have it every other night, lately. Oh, God. I miss my mom. I could almost smell her scent whilst walking through memories of her after my vivid dream. Her loss was so heavy, not only on my chest, but on my being. Grief is... tortuous. My eyes sting and my nostrils narrow making it difficult to breathe, I fear I might make obvious sounds of my emotions and whilst one should allow themselves to grieve, I just don't have the energy to submit to it. No time to open that cavern, I decide. I flop my hands into my lap and let my shoulders slump in submission of my exhaustion, I have no need to continue sitting straight up in bed, which is a result of the night terror, but I use it as an opportunity to align my thoughts. Silence seduces me into a meditative trance, I don't really think of anything which allows me a break from my own head. Then, as if someone turns a metaphorical dial on the volume of my inner thoughts, I begin to listen to whatever wave of thought presents itself.
      ...I wonder how Clark is doing... what food do we have in... I should really go for a jog, it's been too long... need to check supplies
... remember that song, oh, what were the lyrics now... I'm hungry...
     A slight twince of electricty ran through my spine and into my extremities, that last thought struck and obvious cord and my tummy rumbled in agreement. Sigh, I guess I better eat. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and I fumbled to unknot my sheets from between thighs, it aggravated me that I didn't just take the sheets off before I moved my legs, what a dumbass. Gah! The fruhstration makes my heart pound in my ears, however, it was helping the process of joining the world of the living. Once free I stomp my feet to the floorboards below and instantly feel the bitter bite of icy hardwood on the bottoms of my feet. Shock forces a quick inhale and I soon retract my toes and fumble for my slippers. I've always favoured slippers over shoes, there's something so comforting and soothing about a good pair of slippers. I seem to attract a badge of loyalty with almost every pair, they usually die from being overworn. These live ones, however, are my favourite companions! I flinch responding to a flash of guilt from absentmindedly letting my slippers outrank my true love Clark, the moment passes as quickly as it comes and I roll my eyes at my giddiness. I feel the fluffy inner fabric hug my feet after sliding them into my slipper boots, their sponge soles let my toes nuzzle into a state of comfort. Even my ankles get in on the action. My mouth curls in approval as I apraise my footwear, the pattern on the outer of the boots is winter knitwear, little red reindeers are bounding, snowflakes embroided in white against the cream background, and a fluffy white hem at the top homes two pom poms dangling from a stringed bow. I bask in the glory of my oldworld comforts, warmed by the fact they were a gift from my mom.
     After I shovel the last of my scrambled eggs on toast I sit back and let my breakfast stodge in my stomach. I love this time of day, you can smell the dew on the air, I always open the doors to let the new day in. Whilst I'm grateful for the convenience and protection that my house offers, I can't be too seperate from nature, if I did I think my soul would die! My cheeks tingle as glee fills my heart and golden light filters into my living room, touching the left side of my skin. Squinting through the fresh rays, I feel something... strange. I can't quite put my finger on it, I don't usually feel such apprehension this early. My anxiety takes time to gain momentum, but today it got a head start. I wonder why.

*TBC*