She awoke with such a start both knees cracked against the keyboard tray, sending the glass plate, mouse and keyboard clattering to the carpet. She gripped her arm rests, gasping. She realized she had the Wacom stylus pinned to the grey plastic in her right white-knuckled hand, and flung it away from herself with an airy squeak. She knew she hadn’t had that in her hand earlier.
Her ears were ringing from the loudness of her dream. The heavy thrumming wings that had crashed into her eardrums with every beat of the images had stopped abruptly, but the high tone and aching from them still held. She rubbed her face slowly, feeling a sob welling in her throat. She wiped her eyes and looked at the screen. The fat man in the sweat-drenched boating shirt was raving “no drills, no screws, and no holes!”
She tossed the empty energy drink can in the waste basket and vowed never to ingest the stuff again.
The clock read 3:19.
~~~~~~~~~~To be Continued... Possibly.~~~~~~~~~~
