He came to. It was dark. He closed his eyes to see if he could return to his dreams and realized he was lying on his back, something he always made an effort not to do. He felt a sense of panic and tried to roll onto his right side. Although his command to himself was clear, and he seemed completely awake, he remained inert. He tried to wiggle his toes and couldn’t. His breathing became erratic. A state of paralysis encased his entire body. He cried out, not even thinking who might hear him, but his voice was stunted and filtered down to a bark-like whisper.

He hadn’t experienced it since he was sixteen, but he knew what was happening. Immediately, he controlled his breathing—in for a four count, hold for eight, and then exhale. It was clear to him now, he was awake in a dream, not that it was enough to allow him to turn on his side, which he wanted more than anything in the world. It came back to him from twenty plus years earlier. His method of escape was to concentrate on his left pinky finger and try to get it to move ever so slightly. If he could just get that going, he could spread the movement through his body and break free from sleep. His pinky didn’t respond. He switched to his big toe.

He wasted energy trying to move, exerting his will. His exhaustion finally stopped him from struggling within and he rested. Time passed, and then he felt something different happening. Not sure what it was, he wondered if he was dying. His body, though still paralyzed, was flooded with a strange sensation of lightness as he slowly slipped the clutches of gravity and floated toward the ceiling. Fear rose in him and he flailed his arms. Miraculously, they moved, and so did his legs. He was hovering in midair. Somehow, without even thinking to do it, he turned so he was looking down at his bed and his sleeping body. The scene was lit by a pale blue glow emanating from him.

At this point, he knew he should have been really frightened, but he felt not the least bit of worry. He noticed that his body, asleep in the bed below him, was breathing peacefully, and he gave himself over completely to the will of whatever was taking him up. The ceiling was no barrier in his ethereal state, and he rose through it, through the attic. He saw the moon shining in the attic window.