Personal Blogs

Even the numbers weren't there. My feet weren't hanging over anything. I took a step, it didn't seem to change anything, but how would I tell? I had no point of reference.

I sat down, so I had been standing on something. I could see my boots, I looked at my hands, they seemed normal. I ran opposite hands up and down my arms, I felt my face, again normal.

I was too scared to look inside my head for answers. I felt like crying. Why? Why me?

I saw my boots?

I was wearing clothes; combats, a tee-shirt, a...hi-viz jacket. Why? Why?

I thought about what the other mes had said, "it's about your mind making sense of something that doesn't".

I was at work then. Or my mind thought that I was.

In which case there would soon be litter for me to pick up, or doors to open or close, or some something that would give me an in to my predicament.

Hopefully.

The 'in' came soon, not something that I expected or liked.