A Touch Of Realism Essay, Research Paper A Touch Of Realism The thick, tantalizing aroma of roasted coffee nipped at the tip of my nose just seconds before the old faithful alarm released its high pitch sound through its tiny top speaker. Wiping away the grit of last night’s sleep, the bright white sunrays blinded me momentarily as I slung my arm like an elephant trunk along the top of the alarm and searched for the snooze button.
A Touch Of Realism Essay, Research Paper
A Touch Of Realism The thick, tantalizing aroma of roasted coffee nipped at the tip of my nose just seconds before the old faithful alarm released its high pitch sound through its tiny top speaker. Wiping away the grit of last night’s sleep, the bright white sunrays blinded me momentarily as I slung my arm like an elephant trunk along the top of the alarm and searched for the snooze button. Stretching hands and feet to the four posts of my bed, my eyes opened after several watery blinks. I crawled out of the comforter, edging awkwardly like a butterfly from a cocoon, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The long shaggy carpet tickled the bottom of my feet, sending rippling chills from my ankles to the nape of my neck. Grabbing the apricot-colored terrycloth robe, recently bathed and in fabric softener and dried in the in summer breeze, I knotted it tightly at my waist like a prestigious coat of armor and headed to the kitchen to confront the morning. The kitchen was brightened by the morning sunlight dancing gracefully on the spotless chrome sink. I focused on the hot steamy pot of brewed coffee , poured some in my cup, and then placed the rim on my lower lip and sipped. Ah I never had coffee taste so good and smell so rich!. I walked over to the dinning room table and I pulled out a chair to sit down. It seem to be a routine morning until, I noticed the color of wood stain was different, the TV set was a different brand, and the furniture was also a different company brand name. Suddenly , it dawned on me, I was not in my house but in someone else s home. As I took a long sip of hot steamy coffee; I questioned myself what event has lead me to think that I am in someone else s house?.If my memory serves me correct, last nights events proceeded as follows : I took another sip of coffee and remembered living the office at 5:30pm; as I walk to my car I could feel the fresh cool breeze brushing through my hair. The breeze felt so good and refreshing ,it reminded me when I would wakeup at sunrise on the beach and feel the wind blow slightly past may face. I turned the ignition in my car and opened the passengers and drivers side windows so I can feel the fresh air circulating though my car. I turn on the radio and listened to the weather report. Once I got on the freeway, I could see a line of dark clouds headed my way. I rowed up my window after a couple of miles because it began to rain lightly, like someone was tapping on the window with their fingertips. I activated the windshield wipers and turned on the headlights; thus I held on to the steering wheel like a baseball player holding on to a bat. Confronting the storm head on was not a pleasant feeling, although I was dedicated to get home and see my wife and two children. The rain began to pour heavier and harder the deeper I traveled into it; making it difficult to see traffic ahead. The sound of the rain pounding on the seemed as if someone had been dropping marbles on my car. Lighting was lighting up the sky like a camera flashing in the dark, thunder rolling across the sky and visibility decreased by ninety percent. I was coming close to the exit ramp when a bright white flash of lighting struck in front of me and I was momentarily blinded.
As I sat in the dinning room table trying to recall what happened next, when I saw my wife in a soft silky night gown which highlighted her beauty and simply took my breath away. She walked down the hallway in a steady fashion not missing a single step; she pulled up a chair next to me and sat down, placing her warm hand on my arm; in addition, I was just going to ask her the same questions when she pressed her fingers in my forearm and said to me in a soft whispering sound we love you . At the same time, the house began to shake like an earthquake, and my heart began to beat fast as I stared at my wife s crystal clear brown eyes. Suddenly, she vanished into thin air like an evaporating cloud on the southern Perry.I opened my eyes, my heart still pumping rapidly and I said to my self,“thank god It was all a dream.” The earthquake turned out to be my two children jumping and playing in daddy s bed having a great time. I launched myself and grab them both by their ankles, tuning them over on their backs tickling them like hyenas. We played in bed for about ten minutes, then my wife said, daddy, do not forget to put your suit on then she called out in a load voice, kids, come and eat breakfast! As I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed I could smell the aroma of the freshly roasted coffee ; I sent my children away to the kitchen. Sitting on the edge of the bed, the long shaggy carpet tickled the bottom of my feet, my children s voices disappeared as they descended into the kitchen. I could still feel my wife warm fingers on my arm; in fact, my hole right side feels warm to and I do not know why. I closed my eyes and inhaled and exhaled a long morning yawn before I getting up and fetch me a hot cup of coffee , I opened my eyes I was surprised not to see my self sitting on the edge of my bed but found myself floating in the air in a hospital room. I was looking down at myself laying on the hospital bed, my wife sitting next to me holding my arm and my daughter laying down next to me on my right side.I know now what had happen to me. The afternoon I was diving home in the lighting storm , I was blinded by a lighting, lost control of my car and got into a near-fatal accident. I looked around the room and I saw a calendar and looked at the date ,thus indicated to me that I had been in a coma for three years. The color of the wood, the TV, and the furniture in my house had been changed over the three year period. My wife and daughter felt so warm to me because it was me who was so cold; therefore, I know that I was dying . My wife knew that I could not go without my coffee every morning, so she would dip her index finger her coffee mug and apply it to my lips so I could have the sensation of drinking my coffee. My wife knew that I had just died, so she kissed me softly on one cheek and my little daughter on the other. The doctor came in the room and said that it was time to say good bye; my wife assured my children that daddy would be watching over them always. As they got up to leave, I could not say good bye or kiss them for the last time. I was hoping that all of this was another bad dream, an illusion perhaps, wishing that I would wake up at any time.
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