“The End,” she’s reading, but then turns the page backwards.

The train stops and I moonwalk onto the platform, then smile, walking backwards up the stairs. I’ve been here before, I know where I’m going.

Doors open themselves behind me – I step back and close them.

Soon, I’m in my apartment. The next part isn’t so nice. The oatmeal felt better going in.

Then I’m wet, so I shower to dry off. 

I turn on loud, blaring alarms around my room, get into bed, pull up the covers, and close my eyes. 

When the story is finally silent, it begins.