The Message

Not sure how to interpret the โ€œmessageโ€ I received last night / early this morning, as I awoke to a womanโ€™s voice clearly speaking to me; speaking straight into my half-sleeping ear: Pop Art, although it might have been: pop art, as the light was out and sleep โ€ฆ deep. As always, when I get these messages I found myself resting on my left side, facing the empty half of the double bed; I felt dehydrated and my lips longed for moisture. I remained still, pretending to be asleep, gradually adding a fake snoring as I voiced a dreamlike mumbling of incoherent thought towards the apparition I dared not face, standing behind me: I was sure of that. After a while and after regaining awareness I tumbled and turned, with a speech loudly expressing I was rejoining the world of the awakened. The bedside lamp slowly lit and revealed no one in sight. No woman. No apparition. Nothing. I was alone, as expected.

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