The house that I was in was more modern than the house I grew up in, the house that I remembered. But this was a dream. I looked outside my window and saw trees falling all around it. I knew the forest was collapsing.
I had to get out of there. I took as much clothing and belongings as I could and ran out the front door. The house was situated deep in the forest and I had to run through it to get to the gate. Behind me, I could hear the crack of bark and the sharp sting of glass upon glass.
I woke up and I didn’t understand. I wasn’t frightened then calm. I was leaving something– something was falling apart– something big, built up, a fixture of my memory.