I am Louis’ queen waking in a king-sized Versailles bed, or swinging into life from a hammock beneath azure skies
Each morning upon waking, before I open my eyes, I like to pretend the passing cars are waves. They come in steady rushes, evenly spaced by the speed bumps on the rat run. If I listen with the correct balance of imagination and concentration, I am on a beach somewhere far, far from home.
People talk of that brief, disorienting flicker that can occur when waking: where am I? A sort of GPS failure in the liminal space between the unconscious and conscious states. I love this moment. It means I could be anywhere and anyone. I am Louis’ queen waking in a king-sized Versailles bed. I am swinging into life from a hammock beneath absurd azure skies. I am stirring from a nap after winning multiple prizes, which is a tiring affair.
Continue reading...from The Guardian http://bit.ly/2GX4jI5
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