The feeling when you're halfway between sleep and wakefulness. Your eyes are still sandpapered together, but your mind begins to stir, seeing, though your eyes do not, the sunbeam falling on your face. Slow and easy, like the edge of a sea nibbling away at the shore. Not happiness; the promise of happiness. 

But promises are prone to throwing themselves out of windows.

A voice. Gently stirring you. 

A small smile because the voice is known and loved.

A blink as the voice keeps talking. 

Ceiling. Light splaying on the walls. The shadow of a tree.

Stumbling to the bathroom, falling on the floor, your heart in your mouth. Choking. Trying desperately to cough it out, to get rid of it, because that's the only way you'll be able to breathe again. Tears forcing a path from eye to cheek to mouth. Salty, scalding. Heart slowly jerks its way back into place again but it wasn't so heavy before, no. 

And then some toast and a false smile because that's what life brings after death is done.

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