The dream

I’m finally in bed trying to fall asleep. I need to feel being covered not only by the bedsheet. It’s just a habit. The cover on the bed is heavy and uncomfortable. My room is small, about 12 square meters. The door is wide open to let some air in. But that’s not enough. The closed window doesn’t let me breathe. There is a brown shutter dragged over it and I’m feeling like being trapped in a ward, without an emergency exit.


180x80cm, batik by Joanna Bartkowiak

At that moment I began to feel the anxiety of losing sense of reality, of losing control on my life, of falling asleep in a strange house with this unknown man outside. I realised that I need to just jump into the abyss of trust in order to fall asleep, and that was not easy. Even though he told me so much about his life and all that made me see his ethical sensitivity, I couldn’t be sure if that wasn’t only a lie, a story for a gudgeon… I worried, tossing on the bed like in a nightmare…

Like in a nightmare.

In a nightmare.


Suddenly, I noticed him standing in the open doors. He was watching me.


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