Wake Up.

You are in the basement. There’s not so much as a pin prick of light. You stretch your eyes outside your head to make sure they’re open, still you find no light.

Get Up.

It takes a while to muster the courage to face the cold air when you are so snug in your blanket cacoon. You know if you stay like that, all wrapped up and staring into the darkness, the dark will bend on itself and create images you can not handle in your hypnopompic state.

Turn On Light.

No electricity. Are you dreaming? You can’t be, can you? You might be but who cares first you must escape the dark bowels of the house.

Up Stairs.

Light. Excessive light. Streaming in through the windows abundantly, flooding every room to the brim. You try to protect your once probing eyes but it is to late you are already blind, if only for a little while.

Coffee.

Your fuel, your escape, your blood, your fire. Every earthy sip sets your heart racing faster, and melts your cold bones. Your eyes are adjusting. The stove warms the kitchen with its pulsing heat. The linoleum covered floor creaks with every step you take. Tempting as it is to stay here sipping coffee in front of the warm stove, the creaks and cracks of the floor remind you there is work to be done up stairs.

Office.

The computer. It offers to you a wealth of information. Through it, you can access snap shots of vacations past, e-mails from former lovers, bits and pieces of your brain scattered throughout your own writings, or you can surf the cyber waves. You can turn on, tune in and drop out, and learn through the internets imagination. But, the closet behind you, with boxes spilling out of it, old sporting equipment, and your father’s teaching skeleton from his days as a science professor, keeps pressing you. Its time to clean out that closet. Setting the computer into autopilot, you make your way over to the clutter, but you stop to peek out the window.

Window.

Restored sight. Finally the blindness is dissipated. Before you is the entire neighborhood, unfolding around your house welcoming the new day. Snow covered roofs, bundled up tobboganners, and driveway shovelers all dancing to the beat of the icy wind. This point of view offers more to you than dealings of the past. The closet can wait. You lock up the house, setting it to sleep mode, and take your leave.

If you have any comments or need any help, feel free to comment.