She woke to find herself naked; the nightwear that had been tightly wound around her body was gone. This startled her and she hurriedly looked around the room to see if anyone was there or if anything had been disturbed.
Everything looked normal so what had happened to her in the night? She remembers falling asleep to the TV voices but nothing more. She had no dream recollections and as far as she could remember she had not left the comfort of her duvet’s inviting arms so what had happened to her clothes? She slowly put her feet on the floor, rubbed her eyes, stretched and gave thanks for a new day. She got up and sauntered gingerly to the bathroom and as she sat on the toilet she noticed her nightwear in a crumpled heap on the floor. She racked her brains for some memory, an image; something that would help her to make sense of it all and try as she might nothing came.
Is this the beginning of a steamy intense thriller? Nothing so exciting, it’s what happened to me last night but put in those words it gives it a whole new meaning and sounds so much more interesting than explaining the memory and mr lupus relationship. In fact I can’t wait to see whether there is another instalment tonight.
Isn’t it funny, well you have to find a way to deal with things like this, how large chunks of time just seem to disappear in a puff of smoke? Interestingly enough I remember the first time it happened to me. I was driving to a familiar destination when I got to a roundabout as I drove around it I realised that I didn’t know which exit to get off and so I drove around it a few more times, seven to be precise, hoping to be able to work out my exit by a series of elimination. When I found I didn’t even remember the road I had come down I resorted to sitting in the nearest petrol station and crying (well that seemed like a useful tool).
I did have the good sense to phone a friend whose sympathetic ear got me through the moment.
Since then other interesting things have happened but rather than panic I have labelled it as a mr lupus moment which I know will pass and some how it seems to go a lot quicker.
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1 comment:
very beautiful texts
Vassilis from Greece.
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