10I hit the hardwood floor shoulder first and scrambled across on my knees, taking in my surroundings in a panic. With one hand, I held my fiercely, aching shoulder, bruised from the tumble from the couch, while I searched my back for my wings with the other.
My wings?
My apartment. I was in my apartment, not a rooftop, not the ocean, not plummeting from the sky. And I was alone. Nothing and no one else was with me. No creatures dressed in black . . . and certainly no giant war-horse.
Collapsing onto my featherless back and holding my head, I tittered lowly with relief as I fought to catch my breath.
It was a dream. Of course it was a dream.
After a moment of resting on the floor, it dawned on me I’d had this dream before, some of it anyway. I’d just never realized when seeing myself
