Jessica Wilson

I’m awake. Suddenly and without reason, so I think. But I know there is always a reason I wake. I just don’t know what it is yet, this time. I am snug in my bed on this cold December eve, but now awakened for a reason I can’t discern, my senses are hyperbolic. I hear the wind warbling its way through the oak outside my window. A whisper beckons, but it’s only the furnace starting to heat before the fan kicks in. A tiny creak high above draws my ear – the roof or attic perhaps shrinking ever so slightly in the frigid air. I pull the comforter up to cover my head, as if to protect me from phantoms roaming the night. I am once again asleep; at least I dream that I am. ...