For the first time in months I slept all night and woke up feeling like a little bundle of cotton on a silk pillow at 8. I went back to sleep and dreamt about drowning, also for the first time but the first time ever. I've never been afraid of water, never claustrophobic, always confused falling with flying, but when I woke up again at 10 my room tilted. My bed was standing on the edge of a tall cliff, about to fall down and hit the rocks beneath it if I as much as lifted a finger.
It must have been an omen, only minutes later I heard keys in the lock to the front door downstairs. Mom is home again, after months on the road, God knows where. The only thing certain now is I'll have many more dreams about being trapped under water, not able to get out, get up over that glittering surface again.