Slowly drifting towards consciousness I clutch at the edges of my dream. A dream that is now slipping through my fingers like a ribbon caught by a breeze. The moment you think you have it, it slips away only leaving a faint tingle on your fingertips where the fabric brushed your skin. Pulling the covers over my head I shut out the morning light that is teasing me into the waking world. Half intending to give chase to the dream and go back to sleep I hug the covers. Under the blankets its comfortably warm and the sounds of the waking building are only faint. Curling into a ball round my pillow my hair falls across my face. The smell of shampoo from last nights shower slowly starts to fill the enclosed space under the blankets. Fresh with a hint of flowery sweetness.
But the uneasiness of every day starts spreading and I can't help but ask myself: How long? How long can I stay like this. How long until the world will call me back to its daily routine. Uncertain I reach out from under the blanket, searching for my phone. What time is it anyway? I only find sheets. A rather large expansion of sheet almost too big for my bed. Opening my eyes I lift the blanket a little and squinting against the light I peek out. Shocked I sit up at once.
My hair falling in lazy curls on my shoulders and trailing down my arm my lips part slightly in surprise. Vermilion everywhere. Sheets, pillows, drapes everything dyed a deep vibrant red. I am sitting on a huge round bed on a low dais. The red sheets that spill over the edge fall down the low steps like a miniature waterfall dyed blood red. Trough the large windows I can look down at the city. Eyes wide I stare at the panorama enfolding before me. Pulling the blanket closer my head is spinning with questions. How did I get here? When? Why? And where is this anyway?
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