Hit clock. 5:10 am. Vision partially blurred. Sharp intense sound, otherwise known as silence, stirs my throbbing head. Eyelids drift south, closing in like heavy elevator doors. Shut and locked. Sound increases to a high-pitched scream. Open eyes, vision regains focus, hit clock, 5:11 am. My body floats in a fortuitous darkness. My subconscious mind departs as I awake. A stream of light breaks the darkness surrounding me. The light continues to protrude along the edges of my window pane. If I remain in a warm, comfortable bed, my mind will act as a pinball machine—questioning the mysterious stream of light at 5:10 am. No time for contemplation. My body shifts itself onto the floor. What did the tan colored carpet feel like between my toes? I cannot remember because my body hung in the darkness as I stared out the window. An array of blue and green clouds morphed, as though digesting the sky. These clouds gained in speed and began to cover and uncover the luminous moon. All sky moving so fast, so fast, so fast. No time to slow down. Dorm buildings remain firmly planted in their holes, as if an innocuous sky hovers above us. My shoulders lean forward and the rest of my body slouches. Eyes become weights upon weights. Fall carelessly into bed. I zip my eyelids. Sleep.

6: 30am. I awake to an unpleasant “beeeep-beeep-beep.” I no longer hear the boisterous silence, as I did an hour ago. Now, there are no streams of light—brightness invades every crevice. I cross to the window, making unsure steps. Where has the sky I witnessed disappeared to? There is clarity and white, cotton-candy clouds, as though tension in the sky is non-existent. Confusion unsettles me. There should be intimidating shapes and colors glaring back at me, yet now an abrupt calmness. Was this yet another dream or an unreal reality? I pause for the answer and then my mind revs up with questions. As my mind scatters, I close my eyes and re-imagine the sky’s anger. My questions swirl, morph, and take on ugly forms, yet this time, in a pellucid sky.