I wake up.

I wake up.

I'm on a dark desert highway and I don't remember how I got here. There are a few stars in the sky but no moon and not enough light to guide me. I reach into my pockets and pull out a torch, but with nothing for the light to bounce off, I cannot tell how far I am from anything.

I begin to walk, and I walk for several hours, or maybe days, or maybe just a couple of minutes. I arrive at a house with lights burning from every window. I knock on the door and the wood sounds like metal. There is a clank and a clang and the door opens slightly.

An old woman's face looks out at me. She screams something in a language I don't understand and I feel a bullet lodge itself in my lung. I choke and I wake up…

I'm leaning against a set of lockers in my school corridor and I don't remember how I got here. It's after hours, still light outside but the school is empty. I walk down the corridor, which seems longer than I remember. It takes an hour to reach the door at the end. It's locked.

I run at it with my shoulder and it breaks down like it was made from tissue paper. I grab hold of an overhanging girder just in time. The room is missing and I am standing on a narrow ledge, miles up above a canyon. The wind claws at my face, tears at my clothes. It's cold and painful and I can't let go.

A caw on the wind, and an eagle soars across the low-hanging orange sun. I can see the strings. The eagle circles a few times and then, with a terrifying screech, knocks me from behind. I don't know how it got there. As I fall, I think of you, and then I feel talons in my stomach and I wake up…

I'm in my own bed, but it's not in my bedroom and I don't remember how I got here. I step out onto the cold ground of Trafalgar Square, wearing only tracksuit bottoms. The pigeons are here but they're brightly coloured; cyan and magenta, gold and silver, green and yellow.

There are no people and buses and cars sit unused on the road. I walk through the pigeons that scatter nervously as I approach. Nelson's Column looks taller than usual and I step forward onto the top of it. Nelson isn't there, and I'm in his place. I look out across London and Paris and Tokyo.

The pigeons take off all at once and a rainbow fills the sky. I look up and something is falling, a cloud, or a box, or a plane, or all three things at once. I feel briefly flat and I wake up…

I'm laying in the waves crashing onto a sandy beach, unable to remember how I got here. I stand up carefully, spitting out water and I make my way onto the beach. I'm dry. There are lots of people standing on the beach, all looking at me. I feel like I've done something wrong. I know some of the people, but they don't look right.

As I feel my heart shrink and expand and burst from my chest, I wake up, and wonder if I will ever find my way back home.