The mind moves towards discernible thought, fog dissolves into a clearer scape. There is still haze, a lamp-lit bridge, stark, silhouetted, but distorted against the softening night, a misty swirl. There is a hooded figure, hunched against the chill, pausing under a lit space to light a cigarette. There is an illuminated clockface atop a tower, assumed to be the British Houses of Parliament. Things change – Monet’s Waterloo Bridge, an industrial factory backdrop blurred in the misty light. The Eiffel Tower interjects itself, rising above a damp Champs-Élysées.
Sensed dawning light penetrates eyelids, entering deeper into brain-space, demanding attention. There’s initial resistance, a refusal to crack an eyelid. Waterloo Bridge reappears defiantly, but maintenance of the image is commandeering consciousness.
Is that a blackbird? It must be just outside the window; its intrusion melodious, but unbidden, unwelcome. A dog barks somewhere. Consciousness or the ‘land-of-fuzz’? Foggy landscapes momentarily triumph, but there are forces at work demanding wake-ness. There are tumbling, solid thoughts, and now the intrusion of tiny floaters climbing endlessly up the inside of closed eyelids.
Is it a magpie? Maybe a young currawong. Images blur: alternate Waterloo and Tower Bridges. Bladder demands relief. Just hunch down into the blankets. It’s still early.
Thoughts are taking on deliberate, considered dimensions. Self is now demanding consciousness, inserting rational concepts. Attempts to ignore fail miserably. It is a magpie, and it will be sitting on the fence outside the window! It is way too early! The ‘command module’ is in auto-drive; oh, to find the kill-switch!
But this is a nonsense – the intention to ignore the dictates of the mind belies a conscious self. Despite protests, humanity has been activated. Complaints are fruitless, awareness is present and the bladder definitely needs attention, now!
With eyes mostly closed, the bathroom is achieved, then a re-entry into the jumble of sheets and doona. An eye involuntarily cracks open, noting light seeping around the edges of the blinds, a swivel to the bedside table records an outrageously early declaration on the clock. It is not time!
The Samsung ‘prings’ loudly, and again, announcing the arrival of the first New York Times’ bulletins. Another slew of Trump outrages. Who has he threatened today? Maybe it is New Zealand, for telling him to stick his Board of Peace ‘where the sun don’t shine’!
Today is Friday – that’s ABC quiz day. OK, OK, as a hand reaches over and grasps the tablet. A little fumbling, then Question one. “Which US aircraft carrier is near the Straits of Hormuz?” That’s an easy one – the USS Abraham Lincoln. Two “Who has a 99-year lease on the Port of Darwin?” The Chinese. Three: What breed of…”
The Bureau is forecasting a cloudy morning, humidity building before the possibility of afternoon showers. Consciousness One: Sleep Nil!
Aurora indignantly leaves the bedroom. But herbal tea is just not going to cut the mustard, and the dial on the Delonghi is moved to deliver a strong Long Black! A new day begins!