Opening Invocation

She Wakes Up to Go to Sleep

A Dialogue

What is happening to me?

A soft but honest voice whispers, You are floating.

She shuts her eyes. Immediately, a flutter. An image of her—no, maybe just someone—spinning. Suspended from the ceiling of a cathedral-like stage, or room, spinning and swinging back, arched back, head and hair fallen back.

Abruptly, the music stops.

She opens her eyes. The grey steel finials of the headrest of her bed stare back at her.

The voice calls her again.

She closes her eyes. Immediate—there it is: the spinning, swinging someone. The colors are muted shades of charcoal grey and browns. Dim afternoon light peaks through. You see the girl in white cloth swinging back and then letting go, laying into the return. She’s up there all alone. Her hair hangs downward. It goes on for a while.

The light flickers with the pendulum of the swing. Above her: dark mahogany beams. A ceiling painted otherworldly—white, marked with burgundy figures.

She wakes up to go to sleep.