Jet Lag

I awake in a start, the bad dream quickly transitioning into a bad reality. I try to breathe slowly, but my pulse races. Daylight is hours away. I expect to sink straight back to sleep, but it evades me. I am wide awake.

Perhaps this should be cause for frustration. The alarm is gearing itself up to tear me from supposed sleep, a long day of travel and adventure ahead; I need rest. But then I remember returning from South Pacific travels as a child: how black the January night, but how delicious the 2 am breakfasts, how cosy the kitchen where we would all stumble, one after another, our jet lagged bellies disregarding the clock. I learned to love the aftertaste of travel then, and I have never forgotten it. Awake in the night, you need never share your world with anyone else, not even your own reality.

My pulse slows. My stomach begins to rumble. The world outside still dark, but my heart lightens.