This vignette/short story was written based on a prompt at Critique Circle which basically amounted to “A dream/nightmare and its effect on reality for your main character. No more than 3 paragraphs, no more than 5 sentences per paragraph.”. If you like working from prompts like this, register at Critique Circle (that’s free), there’s about two of these per month.

When I go to bed, most of the time I just turn off the light, close my eyes, wait a bit, then I hear the alarm clock and it is morning. That’s what usually happens, some sort of timeless blink between evening and morning. I rarely dream. When I do it’s mostly standard stuff: flying above ground, finding myself back in school only we’re all adults, some illogical stuff that makes me realize I’m dreaming — and that’s usually when the dream ends.

So… tonight’s a dream night. I am in a city, which I obviously live in since I’m walking toward my home. Only the name on the door is not mine. That puzzles me, as my neighbors reaction to my saying hello to them. They obviously don’t know me — but I know them. Alright, the “I don’t exist any more” variant. Fine, now that I’ve realized it I’ll wake up.

… Only I don’t, or more exactly, I didn’t. It’s been seventy-two hours now since I’ve found myself in this city, and I still have no idea where I am, and the whole place still has no idea who I am. Seventy-two hours and the dream is still going on, except it’s not a dream: seventy-two hours, three days, separated by two nights of sleep. And I suspect they’ll keep being dreamless from now on.

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