Autumn Mornings


Is there a name for this moment? It’s morning, on your day off, you don’t know what time it is. But you can feel you’re about to wake up any minute now. Eyes still closed the good dream you were having lingers around you still as you desperately clinging to it not wanting to move. Your body is telling you to get up because the pee that has been brewing all night is about to leak, but you know if you move you’ll be cold and it’s so warm inside the duvet.

The dream is fading you can only replay the last scene now, the faces of the imagined people are starting to blur. And despite the liquid wanting to exit your body you really need a drink, your tongue is dry and sticking to the roof of your mouth and teeth. With eyes still closed you concede to move a leg, the stab of cold hits you as you move position and you sink further into the warm duvet scrunching up into the foetal position.

Through closed eyes you’re vaguely aware of weak autumn sun streaming through the window, it’s penetrated you’re fading dream state. The pee in your bladder is becoming more insistent as is the need for a drink. With the dream now gone you lie there conversing with your inner voice debating about the merits of getting up now. The only thing stopping you is the warmth of the bed that you’ve cocooned yourself in.

You finally open your eyes and stare at the room around you still not wanting to move. The pee is ready to punch its way out of your bladder now so you sigh and accept your fate. You use ridiculous logic to tell yourself if you get up quickly you won’t feel the cold. Though you know in your half-asleep state you won’t be able to move that quickly. You discard the duvet flinging it off you in one swift movement, the cold hits and you cringe getting off the bed and running to the loo.

What do we call this moment in life that happens rather frequently? We tend to forget about it along with our dreams. Once we’re up and about we return to normal and get on with the day ignoring the cold by wearing two jumpers and thick socks. Is it our subconscious not wanting to let go of the dream it’s concocted? Perhaps, it’s a wonderful thought, though most would put it down to laziness. I’d prefer to think I don’t want to let go of my dreams.

Holly Rihan

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