The Dreamers’ Dilemma

Insomnia plays tricks on your mind. The lack of sleep, the dead silence, and, if you unlucky, hallucinations. Some feel deeply real. Others are drenched in uncertainty. Tonight, I could have sworn there was a door in my room.

Pitch black, I didn't know how it could be visible. I don't even remember waking up. It whispered. The door beckoned. Something about "time." My mind was still in a daze when it opened.

Already awake, a familiar pace took over me. Back and forth. As Morpheus hypnotize me back to sleep. But slumber alluded. I had to go through the door.

"...any time you wish..."

I wish I were asleep. I wish I were dreaming. I wish... I wish... I wish...

Fear washed over as I spiraled out of the darkness. A light emerged. The sun. No a reflection. Golden light from the top of something. A pyramid.

Sweltering heat. Dry. Awake. And then a sting of the whip. I wished for sleep. I wished to escape. No door returned.

It seemed like months before it came back. I slaved for pomegranates. Picking them one by one. Persephone cried as I saw her in the mirror. One day this warm winter will end. And I will wake to flowers.

But that's to assume the door will take me back. And this dream was real. Or was my sleep addled mind playing more devious tricks?