by Morokoshi Katsura (唐 桂)
Sasha woke slowly. For minutes he allowed himself to drift in and out of a light doze, too lazy and comfortable to open his eyes. It had the flavour of luxury, as if he’d been sleeping for longer than usual already. Sleeping and dreaming. His limbs were slack with REM-paralysis and barely felt there at all. He wouldn’t be able to move freely even if he made an effort to rise, but the thought caused no anxiety. He reached for the dream again: it slipped over the edge of consciousness and was gone. Something about a key—
It was not entirely dark in the room. Had he left the bedroom lamp on? Or was it morning?