Week #7: Knock Knock

Was it a knock that had woken her?

A knock on the door? A knock on her head? A knock on her heart?

She lay still for a moment, not wanting to get up. How long had she been asleep? An hour? A day? A month? A year? More?

She wanted to move her fingers, her toes. But her muscles, her blood vessels — they didn’t seem to be fully awake yet.

What had caused her slumber? She didn’t remember. One moment she had been up, living her dreams. The next …

A prince, a peasant, a knight, an ogre — someone had kissed her. It must have been then when she was sent to a land of lullabies.

Funny. Weren’t kisses supposed to wake you up? But yet there she was. Recovering.

Was it a knock that had woken her up?

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