Member-only story
He had left the recording studio without looking back and was met by a wall of pouring nighttime rain. He couldn’t properly pop open his umbrella because of the rushing winds so he angrily discarded it into a miniature ake behind him. The world was testing his nerves and he was losing. Once the car had started the radio issued a dead signal. The rainwater created a liquid veil over the windshield that instantaneously reformed after each stroke of the wipers. He hadn’t noticed that he was speeding. He wasn’t paying attention and lost control. He screamed just before the car wrapped its metal around a lamppost. The smell of smoke was extinguished by the rainfall. Then it smelled of bacon and eggs.
He woke up in a room that he had trouble recognizing. The essence of everything was not completely lost but remained vaguely familiar. A woman came in holding a tray of breakfast. She was wearing a comfortable looking robe and had a smile as warm as the biscuits.
“Good Morning, Paul. I thought I’d treat you to breakfast in bed.”
My name must be Paul, he thought to himself. But who is she? Instinctively he knew that he did not want to cause distress by admitting that he did not know who she was. She started to notice that his eyes were glazing.
“Are you feeling alright, Paul?” she said. “Did you have another bad dream?”
