Fray – VI. Thread

-Your mind raced, you quivered under the blanket, its previous warmth stolen. You left the upturned lamp in the corner on, its light falling off on its trek across the room. Your eyes blurred as they lost their focus. The thoughts swirled inside of you. Had anyone been with you in that moment, they might have caught glimpses in the sparse reflection of light on the surface of your pupils.
You’ve always hated when things get ruined and here was further proof that the trail of your existence was littered with ruination. It wasn’t at that point even noticeable, the weakening of the sweatshirt, much less as there was still moisture coloring the actual effect of the rain on its fibers, but it was collapse, it felt like collapse. You lay there imagining the frays that would follow. You lay there imagining your strength being tugged at. One long thread unraveling continuously until you were left without any further defenses against the world. You thought of the smile which had warmed you earlier, the smile which had inspired your own. Now, it simply brought you a huff and you followed it with a deep sigh.
Your body froze, the weight of defenselessness, your muscles rigid, fatigued. Your eyes shielded themselves from the bouncing light. It did not matter that the blanket’s protective warmth had not returned. You started breathing heavily and before you knew it, you knew nothing more that night.
It was like a dream, a stream of images. It reminded you of fantastical moments. A steady succession of the scenes of your journey. Moments that had existed at points past and moments that had yet to manifest, existing in that part of you, that hidden little core which came to light rarely, that place where you store possibility and your hopes for it. It wasn’t odd that you visited this place in your dreams, mixing in the quotidan already experienced. No, what caused your breath to take speed, filling your lungs quickly and just as rushedly emptying them, was the thread that held it all together. The image that appeared in each, only tangentially, related episode. And perhaps you even smiled in the search that led you from one phase of rapid eye movement to the next, in spite of the heavy quickened breath.
It woke you, the dream. Perhaps it had simply been the coffee, its dieuretic effect, which made you, momentarily, leave the warmth of your bed. But it woke you. Your eyes snapped to a now familiar blurriness. The world outside of you, without definition. You realized it then. You realized what the thread that guided your dreams had been. And you smiled. You did smile, then returned to slumber.