Waking up seconds before the alarm goes off is useful only in that one is not violently shaken into that nasty reality place. Yet if one, during those seconds believes it is Saturday, then the resulting spiritual crash could be devastating. Tears will flow, dogs will pack their doggy bowls and quite suddenly the hamsters wheel is silent.
“He thinks it’s Saturday” Howells the cat. The silence is palpable, the neighbours pause during coitus and the brutish dog across the way whimpers into a corner.
Then the air is rent in twain as he screams “Nooooooooo!” from the depths of his comfy pillows.
She, his beloved, slaps him twice.
“Again!” He cries craving the brutality if reality.
“Stop it you foolish Wicks” she barks in her best matriarchal tone. Sobbing the Wicks stumbles into the kitchen to make life giving coffee.
“But it is Friday.” Calls his beloved still encased in warmth.
“Yessss!” Screeches the Wicks punching the air in triumph.
Victory and peace assured the hamster wheel resumes it’s squeaky journey to nowhere; a semblance of reality pervades. . .until next time.