Erick González

Horizon

The warmth of his bed felt like it was cooking him alive. Body heat had built up a pressure beneath the blankets that had begun to melt him from the inside out. His eye lids were too heavy to lift. The sweat on his brow had pooled to its brim, and the sweat dripped like tears into the well of his eyes and down the ridge of his nose. He struggled to release himself from the cocoon of blankets, but they stuck to his damp limbs and torso, pulling his joints to their limits as he struggled and stretched – desperate for a gust of cool air and to release a bit of the steam. Finally, his toes found an edge in the blankets and a bit of the pressure and desperation was released as he reached his leg out as far as it would go.