Inside there is a burning, a wasting of inner strength like fat burning as I run in a fitfully asthmatic sprint toward the ever lengthening corridor with steps falling like a metronome in time with a my fast beating heart.
Feet slipping backward as the heavy linoleum floor tilts forebodingly above me rising into a circle and still I run. Round and round towards the door of 308. Something not done, something not done, something important forgotten.
I sweat buckets of salty drops which fall slowly toward the floor as slow-mo movies in late night television show snow. Never slowing and heart pounding painfully harsh breathed molten hot gusts of thick gas like blacksmith bellows melting steel.
Whirling soupy pool of dread, sucking at me, drawing me off the floor, slewing side-long into the well of despair as the door comes in sight, slow, so slow that I can feel the shift of its molecules while head pounds in time to strange music. A chanting of familiar phrase.
A vice-like pressure on wet temples. Clothing stretched tightly round, holds legs and arms, pain. Arms responding too late and legs leaden and useless, I fall and fall turning over and around. The door goes past in a drugged blur as I reach desperately for the jam to no avail and the moment is lost.
Keeping the flood of watery gel around me from entering past my teeth and sipping air through tiny bubbles rising from doorways, I swim toward the light below the door. Drawn in torture towards that which I fear and know it is my only hope of escape.
Every fibre screams for release and with the very last of my strength I drag in a breath of watery spittle to cry out a final cantrip powerful against death and ….my hand passes through the doorway the water subsides and I open my eyes. Awake. Its my birthday today. Blog due today! I haven't prepared! My dream will have to do.