Glimpse

It was half-past eight on a February evening when Roger Thymeren, a well-known feminist, woke up confused and panicky after his nap. Darkness settled around him except of the weak light coming from the two big glass windows. All he remembered was that a few hours ago felt sluggish after a meeting with a friend and decided to take a nap to recover from the light drowsiness. He opened his eyes, horrified in this alien space that looked like a warehouse of some sort, shivering from the cold in silence. He was still wearing his pajamas, and now they were dusty and dirty, as were his hands and bare feet. The smell of burning wood in the bleak fresh air came freely inside the space from the window’s broken glass. He went up on his bare feet, trembling and breathing heavily, hoping for an escape. It was challenging to move around because of the darkness, so Roger was constantly stumbling upon some piles of what it seemed sacks of powdery material. “Hello!” he almost screamed, but only the echo of his voice came back. “It must be an enormous warehouse,” thought and lost his courage more. “ At least 5000 sq. feet, two windows only in the front, a lot of piles of sacks that’s what I know.” He suddenly stopped to an engine sound. “ Was it a train? I must be well away from the city”, assumed while searching for an exit using mostly his hands. A metal knob he felt of some sort, and his expectations went up again. “This must be the door!” said. He pushed the wooden door violently with his hand on the knob, although it was easy to open. His body emerged fiercely outside in the unknown territory, far away from any town or village as it looked. The ground was bare and dark, some trees in the background and the big black starry sky. Roger sat on a rock and started to cry.