The Engine Room

It was getting hotter and I couldn’t sleep.

Every night they moved me closer to the engine room.

As I tossed and turned, I dreamt of opening a window.

The dream was brief,
just long enough for me to taste the cool night air,
to hear faint music from a barbeque echoing out across the water
and to see the stars and moon suspended in the Milky Way.

The dream used an old sash window from a wooden villa.
It got stuck.
Having opened it I couldn’t shut it.

I would be forced to endure that view forever.

I could smell the meat cooking.
And above the music I heard snippets of conversation
followed by raucous laughter.

Thankfully the dream ended.

I woke up to the smell of burning.

But as I lay there bathed in sweat staring into the dark,
the smell went away,
as if a breeze had stolen into the room and taken it.

There was not a sound,
only the heat and the stale air
to remind me where I was.

I lay back down relieved.

I was getting closer.

Tomorrow night they would move me closer still.