You seem so tired with only your head resting upon a communal bar top. Mouth agape, eyes quivering beneath thin eyelids.
With a long and gentle gasp your mind sends your body into wakefulness. Your head rightens itself, eyes still aslumber, as your torso raises and your arms pull your elbows onto the deep brown, warm wood top. Your body doesn’t miss anything as it mimics the last image of your limb position, a blueprint to follow precisely. The book is picked up by slightly rebellious finger tips and flipped through, finding an arbitrary page.
You wake up, eyes already repositioned to face the same way, toward where you know the book will be; nine times out of ten right side up.
Ah, a time lapse, you’ll say. I’ve read this page at least 3 times. You’ll chortle at your apparent ability to daydream so easily. Your cheek will remain pink and slightly tender for a few moments longer. Your last reality fading and warping into a new fabricated memory.
Forgotten like the rest.