Ordinary Day

Woke up today to the remnants of a strange dream. Just ghostly tendrils of the memory remain. A large red poker table; an oversized chair and me in a strange dress. I quickly dismiss it as the result of bad sushi from dinner but the dream refuses to fade away as dreams should. More details come back to me: being surround by grotesquely masked faces; disturbing semblances of animals and people. I shudder it away and get up from bed. Sunday, I always found the day quite strange like life goes on pause. I never manage to get much done nor do I put much effort to any task.

The alarm clock bleats pitifully from the floor across the room. Sleepily I realise that I must have thrown it there. I groan and bury myself under the covers attempting to ignore it. Wait. Why is my alarm ringing on a Sunday? Why am I getting a feeling of deja vu? Didn’t I just wake up? From the weird dream. It was even hazier now as I tried to remember it. I must have gone back to sleep after first waking up. I pick up my cell and am shocked to see it really is Monday. Is this a joke? I think as I get up to turn on the TV. Where did a whole day’s worth of memories go? The TV flickers on and I anxiously put the news on and it hits me like ton of bricks: it’s really Monday and I don’t remember anything from yesterday. I concentrate and try my hardest to recall anything from the day before. But it’s completely blank. Fuck. Where did an entire day go? I think again.

Trying not to panic I take a deep breath as I shakily walk around my apartment and decide to continue my day as normal and hope for the best.

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