She slipped out of bed and into the clothes laying out ready on the chair in the corner of the room in movements so fluid and easy that the first uncomfortable niggle starting signalling that this was some disturbing unreality to her mind. The clothes were High Street smart, simple, ordinary work clothes. Then she headed into the kitchen reaching the cereal down from the shelf and pouring the bottle of milk in those same fluid, easy movements. She watched as if she was some other external being from this body that was apparently she, accepting the reality but still bemused. She ate, browsing through a magazine, glancing at the clock. She washed the bowl and spoon out in the clear and tidy sink then left them on the side to drain. Her coat and bag were hanging ready on the hooks by the door and the shoes underneath were High street smart, black court shoes like millions of women wear every day. She took the key down and unlocked the door. Time to go to work. A day, a routine just like everyone else’s. It would be a beautiful day.
Her subconscious was fully disturbed now and her conscious started to clamour too, causing her to shift painfully and rouse slightly, calling her back to reality. A reality where there would be no going to work, where there would be no easy slipping on of ‘normal’ clothes. A reality where there was only pain and limitation. The tears smarted in the corners of her eyes as, now fully conscious, she realised the vicious trick that her subconscious had played on her, luring her, deceiving her.
It would have been a beautiful day in that reality. A day of freedom.
She lifted herself carefully, resting automatically for a moment before stiffly swinging her legs out from under the covers and letting them rest carefully on the floor. She sighed then chuckled.
‘Normal’ women would have got up and had a shower in the morning, spending time on their hair and makeup before heading out of the door. Even her subconscious had forgotten what freedom was.
She sighed again. Ah, freedom. She missed it when she could remember it.
The dream left her morning tinged with bitterness as she slowly navigated the reality that made her a prisoner in her own body.