Jesse Allan

From the Perspective of a Nightmare

When I wake up, my body feels heavier than usual. I use my frail limbs to lift my concrete torso, and they shake twice as much under the weight. The air feels thick—almost solid like jelly that’s just begun to set—yet I don’t remember a forecast for fog. Perhaps, my ageing brain simply forgot. I wander over to my dresser and begin preparing my outfit for the day. I’m taking the train, I remember, so I make sure to wear layers. The trains here are cold, and it’s more than likely my destination will be too.