MEMORY: One that Lingers

“Am I dreaming?”

“What do you think?” said a woman in a night dress.

I could only see her midsection from my perspective, but I could tell we were on the same bed as she lay on her side, facing me. Apart from that, I had no idea where I was. I was stuck in that angle and all I could see aside from the woman’s dress and the bedsheet was a large window on a bricked wall—all in white.

“Looks like I didn’t hog all the sheets this time,” she murmured contentedly and yawned.

“Where am I?” I asked, completely ignoring what she just said.

“Mm, such a sleepyhead,” she cooed and poked my cheek playfully. She took her time, and then let out an amused sigh. “Where else… but home.”

The next thing I knew, the poking turned into slow dabs of wet cloth upon my face. My eyes were closed this time so I wasn’t sure. It was cool against my skin; so nice that I couldn’t remember anything else.