November 1st, 2026. It has been one week since the event. Dread keeps me up at night, which I know exacerbates the problem, but no matter how much my conscious mind tries to convince my subconscious that it would be better to sleep, despite everything, it fails miserably, and so I lie awake until my body capitulates. My dreams anticipate reality. In them I am chased relentlessly. Dark shadows lurk in darker shadows, a world without light or mercy, dead silent but for the yowls of my hunters. Clawed darkness crawls towards me, reaching for me. I awake bathed in sweat, and without thinking, my hand reaches for the clock. 5:13 I read before cursing myself. I should have stayed still; I should have gone back to sleep, to the imagined torture, but instead I moved, and when I move, they come. I try to close my eyes again, try to pretend, but it is too late. With my eyes closed, I feel the weight crawling over the sheets, then pressing down on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. A paw boops my nose. Calm at first, then more and more insistent, and when I give up, at 5:21, I curse William Willett and go to the kitchen to fill the bowls. #writing #tootfic #mesofiction #smallstories #fuckdst