Dreams do not visit me for the period of time that I spend sleeping—probably a full 24-hour cycle if I had to hazard a guess. When I finally wake up, the sun is shining behind closed charcoal curtains. I assume it is morning but, truth be told, I have no clear idea what time of day it is. Winter really messes with my sense of time since there is more darkness than daylight; so does sleeping for days at a time.
I am alone, facing the ceiling. My vision isn't blurry anymore which feels like it should be a good thing, but of all the things I wish to take back for myself I have to admit that my sight was near the bottom of that list. The list isn't realistic. I might as well cross out everything else. I still feel like I am recovering from the flu, but my symptoms have improved since before
