I woke up last Tuesday, and tilted my still-tired head so that I could see the display of my small, digital alarm clock.

It read 6:27

I groaned, my eyelids feeling heavier than a ton of bricks, and wished that I hadn’t got so drunk the night before. A throbbing pain sat at the back of my skull, and the room seemed so dark and far away.

My mind slipped back to what I could remember of the dream I had just had…
Something about a medical personnel and a phone box? The faint monotone images quickly slipped from my grasp.

I reached for my bedside lamp, but my wandering hand could not find the switch.
I blinked, then looked back to the bright red display.

It read 8:34