Panic time

Early, very early gathering by the unreal shade colouring the room, I exited another of those greyish slumbers that I’d forgotten the start of. Immediately I felt worried. Almost 'panic time', at the edge of the cocoon. I knew that I’d miss mini things about here, whilst admitting that a lot of what I was going to miss, I had invented. But I also knew the drudgery of normality was real, and I couldn’t be bothered with it. Time then to cling to these dwindling celestial hours, to stretch them and hold off my inevitable future. I’d keep a solid memory-copy of the smells, the danger-filled sensation, the cravings for answers that it induced, and, most prominently, the unparalleled view.

I must have gone on thinking in that morose way for a while as, seemingly in tandem with a confident strain of light, a start-of-day light, I was jolted by the sound of movement outside. Cases clattering. Urgent voices. Obviously the rush of departing neighbours, those concerned about reaching the airport or wherever on time. Propelling me into their bodies, getting me even more panicked. The angsty tones becoming quieter, dipping away. Just shadowy recollections of the struggle losing clarity, being washed towards the back of time...

Then another sound, a knock. And more of the light. Groggily I let some sound out of my throat, a sort-of ‘enter’ or ‘hello’, who knows? The door pushed open, and, still in my sleep-eye stage, I knew who it was. Even in the burgeoning morning, the shadow. The presence before the presence.

And before I saw anything, mad blushing in my chest. Bizarre explosions. ‘Sir, good morning.’ A phantom sound. Yet traces of colour, almost perversely, magical. ‘Maybe for the last time.’ The way he said it, not a statement, not a question, either. I was still reaching the day world, in that double-space between slumber and consciousness. But I was happily hazy. And I knew the pleasant but serene face, regardless of whatever time it was, would glaze my coming moments with a beauty I had not foreseen. ‘Hey, hey...,’ I managed to muster, out of my clogged throat.

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