Slumber

Sometimes my slumbering self is jolted awake.  Not that strange, slow awakening where the cobwebs of sleep loosen and drift off but a door in my mind flung wide. 

“Whaaaa?!”

A distant siren wails.

Dogs howl, coyotes yip and gibber. 

There is a shriek of laughter. 

It seems to be just outside my window. 

Farewells are called.

A distant voice answers. 

A door slams.  

A car starts.

I turn my pillow over.

The coolness comforts. 

And down the slope of sleep I slide.