A light has been turned off downstairs, I heard a click.
In bed, when it’s dark, I can hear the house.
I can tell which cat is running up the stairs.
I know which boy is snoring.
I can hear the wind on the back windows and the occasional clop of the cat flap.
I like sleep, I like sleep when I know everybody is safe, the doors are locked, the windows are shut and I have a warm duvet.
Oddly I like winter best, when I know it is cold out and it is all the more special that I am inside, warm.
I can hear Loz coming up the stairs.
She has a special rhythm to how she climbs them.
Our first step is lower than all the others and as a rule neither of us step on it when coming up the stairs.
The top step is a full three inches high than all the rest.
It is also the step you use to pivot round onto the landing so there is often a longer pause on this step.
The bannister creaks as she pulls herself round onto the landing.
The landing creaks.
It has chipboard laid over the original floor boards and the layers scrunch together in certain places.
They have a slight music of their own, the sound of the house being used.
She is coming up to the bedroom door and I can feel the room change slightly as she comes in.
It is dark but I can hear her take off her dressing gown and throw it on the floor.
We have hooks on the back of the door of course.
We just never use them.
I am aware of all this as I slowly wake up.
I have been deep down in a dream and it’s all still warm and fuzzy.
I should be annoyed because it is so late and I was happily asleep but it’s so lovely having her around, I don’t mind a bit.
I am just glad she is there.
I move over slightly so her side of the bed is clear and I can hear her sit down on the edge of the bed.
I am just thinking how nice it would be to give her a hug but I am just starting to get the shakes a little.
I can feel myself coming out of sleep and I am pleased because she has finally decided to come to bed and I don’t know what my growing worry is all about but it’s getting bigger and bigger.
And then the scales tip just a little too far and I start to remember and I am back pedalling and trying really hard to shut out the wakening and get back into a dream.
And I can’t.
And it’s not fair.
And there is this huge wall of unfairness and brutality and I slam headfirst into it.
And with a rush I am awake.
And Loz has been dead for years now.
I still get this dream sometimes, when she decides to come home again.
I know it happens to other people as well.
It’s rubbish.
Living with Proles 
At first, I didn’t like the rubbish line. Then I realized you put me in your position of the rude awakening. Thanks, that was good.
Thank you Guerino,
Thank you for the kind words.
The ‘rubbish’ thing is suck in my head I am afraid, it comes from a time when Loz died and I was stuck in a small moral loop.
I wanted to complain to someone somewhere about the situation and the crushing unfairness of it all that affected everyone involved but I was aware that this is how life works and that this happens every day to people.
There was no one to complain to and no way it would get ‘better’.
The loop carried on and still does to an extent.
I want to complain but ultimately this is life and I have to get on with it.
The phrase “This is rubbish” just rolled around my head at all times.
Every time something bad happens now I know I have to just pick myself up and keep going.
Every thine something good happens I am sad she is not here to see it.
It’s rubbish.
I did look at that line for a while, in the end it stayed in because I would have had to write another 500 words to explain it.
I am really glad you thought it was good, thank you.
J