Jake

Light!

Hurricane of light coming at me. Swallows me. I am blinding, screaming light. It’s gone. I’m still here. Dark. Cool. Silent.

Below me railroad tracks gleam in moonlight. Cool, rough cement on my bare feet. Somewhere a clock strikes. I count. Three. In the morning? I’m in my pajamas. Where am I? Why aren’t I in bed? Am I dreaming?

I smell pickles.

I am not alone. I hold out my hand.