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At first it is just a terrible feeling of dread, the feeling you might get if a gun were aimed at you. Something awful is happening, out of the ordinary, the sort of disaster you see every so often on the news, the ones that compel neighbours and passers-by to crowd round and lend a hand. You could be walking through a field, going swimming with a friend or just watching TV when it strikes. Your whole world becomes more alert, dragging you into a sharper state of consciousness.
Which is when the sound hits you, and with it the realisation. Your well-practised emergency response plan is put into action, and your arm moves instinctively - you know where it is, but your fingers aren't dextrous enough to work out *how*. Dammit, which button is it?! Scrabbling, you eventually find the right one, and the horrible noise falls silent. The panic is over, you relax once more.
Some time passes, you're not sure how long. Your mouth feels dry, your nose is blocked and you are uncomfortable down your left arm, yet you feel at peace. You are aware of a change in temperature, of the world feeling colder and of something being absent. This is a good thing - some higher region of your brain fumbles over the reasons why, but they're right on the horizon of your consciousness, just too far away to make out. You reach up with your mind, but you're pushed back - the soothing, soothing hands of bliss stroke and caress your forehead, pushing you back down into their world. You resume your swimming, and race Mikhail Gorbachev underwater to the other side of the pool.
You surface, and open your eyes. A bright, blinding light hurts them, causing you to squint. The scene has changed, you're back home, in your room. As your focus clears, your attention is attracted to something moving around the room, a person. She turns, looks down at you and smiles, much like a mother would smile at her baby.
"Morning honey!"
You groan, and roll over.
Which is when the sound hits you, and with it the realisation. Your well-practised emergency response plan is put into action, and your arm moves instinctively - you know where it is, but your fingers aren't dextrous enough to work out *how*. Dammit, which button is it?! Scrabbling, you eventually find the right one, and the horrible noise falls silent. The panic is over, you relax once more.
Some time passes, you're not sure how long. Your mouth feels dry, your nose is blocked and you are uncomfortable down your left arm, yet you feel at peace. You are aware of a change in temperature, of the world feeling colder and of something being absent. This is a good thing - some higher region of your brain fumbles over the reasons why, but they're right on the horizon of your consciousness, just too far away to make out. You reach up with your mind, but you're pushed back - the soothing, soothing hands of bliss stroke and caress your forehead, pushing you back down into their world. You resume your swimming, and race Mikhail Gorbachev underwater to the other side of the pool.
You surface, and open your eyes. A bright, blinding light hurts them, causing you to squint. The scene has changed, you're back home, in your room. As your focus clears, your attention is attracted to something moving around the room, a person. She turns, looks down at you and smiles, much like a mother would smile at her baby.
"Morning honey!"
You groan, and roll over.
I hate alarm clocks so much that I've stopped using one. I still wake up, but in a much more pleasant way. Admittedly I'm late for work at least twice a week, but at least I'm happy.
That's the first post on here I've read about the blurry dream-time just before waking.... I hate alarm clocks.
At first it is just a terrible feeling of dread, the feeling you might get if a gun were aimed at you. Something awful is happening, out of the ordinary, the sort of disaster you see every so often on the news, the ones that compel neighbours and passers-by to crowd round and lend a hand. You could be walking through a field, going swimming with a friend or just watching TV when it strikes. Your whole world becomes more alert, dragging you into a sharper state of consciousness.
Which is when the sound hits you, and with it the realisation. Your well-practised emergency response plan is put into action, and your arm moves instinctively - you know where it is, but your fingers aren't dextrous enough to work out *how*. Dammit, which button is it?! Scrabbling, you eventually find the right one, and the horrible noise falls silent. The panic is over, you relax once more.
Some time passes, you're not sure how long. Your mouth feels dry, your nose is blocked and you are uncomfortable down your left arm, yet you feel at peace. You are aware of a change in temperature, of the world feeling colder and of something being absent. This is a good thing - some higher region of your brain fumbles over the reasons why, but they're right on the horizon of your consciousness, just too far away to make out. You reach up with your mind, but you're pushed back - the soothing, soothing hands of bliss stroke and caress your forehead, pushing you back down into their world. You resume your swimming, and race Mikhail Gorbachev underwater to the other side of the pool.
You surface, and open your eyes. A bright, blinding light hurts them, causing you to squint. The scene has changed, you're back home, in your room. As your focus clears, your attention is attracted to something moving around the room, a person. She turns, looks down at you and smiles, much like a mother would smile at her baby.
"Morning honey!"
You groan, and roll over.
Which is when the sound hits you, and with it the realisation. Your well-practised emergency response plan is put into action, and your arm moves instinctively - you know where it is, but your fingers aren't dextrous enough to work out *how*. Dammit, which button is it?! Scrabbling, you eventually find the right one, and the horrible noise falls silent. The panic is over, you relax once more.
Some time passes, you're not sure how long. Your mouth feels dry, your nose is blocked and you are uncomfortable down your left arm, yet you feel at peace. You are aware of a change in temperature, of the world feeling colder and of something being absent. This is a good thing - some higher region of your brain fumbles over the reasons why, but they're right on the horizon of your consciousness, just too far away to make out. You reach up with your mind, but you're pushed back - the soothing, soothing hands of bliss stroke and caress your forehead, pushing you back down into their world. You resume your swimming, and race Mikhail Gorbachev underwater to the other side of the pool.
You surface, and open your eyes. A bright, blinding light hurts them, causing you to squint. The scene has changed, you're back home, in your room. As your focus clears, your attention is attracted to something moving around the room, a person. She turns, looks down at you and smiles, much like a mother would smile at her baby.
"Morning honey!"
You groan, and roll over.