Dawning Creations

I smell of peanut butter and mint, having just finished my morning routine.

You want to talk but I’m not fully here.

My mind is where I was last.

I woke up in an old bed, soft cotton sheets, faded pink bedspread and heavy comforters.

Stretching, I eyed the bed and the room, vaguely thinking that it wasn’t mine but disregarding it when I saw the windows.

The tall widows lay against a backdrop of circular walls with torn wallpaper carnations.

I felt the tip of a torn piece, enjoying the sensation. I definitely did not belong here but I wanted to stay.

I crept out of bed and began searching for more .

The kitchen was massive with more wall paper, faded blue this time with more windows.

Shut tight, I wrenched them open and let the air in. The outside air felt like early spring or autumn, with a minor chilly undertone.

The sun was lulling on a mountain peak and tall grass and meadowland met the windowsill.

Just as I was about to venture into another room, probably three times my age, my eyes opened, seeing my room and this place was gone.