"The Alarm" by Marie Lecrivain

     I was about to step into the silken strands of an embroidered garden when the alarm went off.
     The Book of Dreams closes its covers as I reluctantly open my eyes. My spine hardens into a column of anger, my fists clenched in rebellion, and my body stiffens against the imposition of responsibility. I don't want to emerge from my warm nest of blankets, put on work clothes and shuffle into another day of trading my time and knowledge for sustenance.
     Your body stirs next to mine. You tossed and turned all night, the tides of your nightmares pushed against me. Sensing this, I turned away and sought beauty in silky emerald blades of grass, in soft petal textures where I could bury my head and forget my cares. And then, the alarm went off.
     I watch the numbers glow in the dark...3:56, 3:57, 4:01...I could call in sick, cough into the phone, whisper my excuses in a raspy voice, buy myself time and space to sleep a few more hours, wake up and make coffee the way I like it, read a good book, take a stroll on the beach in the noonday sun, or window shop along Melrose Avenue for things I would never even conceive of buying in a million years. The possibilities beckon.
     I wonder about your dreams. I hear you groan in the dark as the weight of the Universe presses into your back. It frightens me. In these moments I don't know who you really are...the person I love, my friend, my...?
     I know you work hard for little very money and even less respect. It pains me to see you struggle when you are meant for so many better destinies. In spite of this, I know you understand my desire to be anywhere else and here at the same time.
     Your arms wrap around me. Your love flows through me like a warm wind. We lay together, suspended in hope as the alarm goes off again. Together, we rise to meet the day.