Memories
Sleep-ridden, my mind registered vague shapes and murmurs through squinted eyes, as if I were eavesdropping on a reality I ought not to see. As I slowly regained consciousness, some words grew clearer until one in particular brought me to my senses. Heather. Not the flower, but my name. However, it had not come from whatever hallucination I was having, but from my mother, who by the sounds of it, was across the hallway outside my door, likely pacing as she does when attending to a particularly stressful call.