In the black, I hear the start of a drum roll. Faint at first, it begins to grow, as though the drummer were walking, then running toward his audience. The warm, sinking silence around me twitches, then drops me as it flees from the warning rumble. Momentarily weightless, I fall back into the bed I'd never moved from, my body landing with a thud that I can only hear in my head. Black fades to gray, then into a blur of nightlight-illuminates blues as an instant later, the drum roll ends in a much more corporeal thud. The blues give way to black for a moment as I blink, then return only to take more definite form. Cluttered bookshelves. My chair, bearing the burden of my backpack. The open door.
The door?
Heavy eyelids blink a second time as I puzzle over said door, beyond which lies a staircase to the waking world. I distinctly remembered closing it the night before. Who had...?
Additional weight on my pillow draws my attention in and down. A large, dark, fuzzy head rests next to mine. A long, twitching nose snuffles and sniffs while wide, curious eyes search my face.
I blink one last time as I piece together the drum roll, the stairs, and the unexpected visitor.
Clearing my throat, I croak, "Hi, Sydney."
He lifts his tail and waves it like a flag in triumph. Ta-da.
(235 words)
He lifts his tail and waves it like a flag in triumph. Ta-da.
ReplyDeleteGreat use of simile and imagery. It makes a nice ending to your story.
The imagery at the beginning of the story confused me a little. Perhaps this would be fixed by giving more clues as to what the drum-roll is, and to be more direct about the blue light from your night light.
As you describe yourself awake the details get more crisp and clear. Perhaps this is part of the style of the piece, for the descriptive imagery to get more clear as your character becomes more awake. That's a cool effect.