Changing rooms
January 15, 2023, 8:25 pm , by Richard Lutz
Richard Lutz sleeps in a landscape with no map
We switch bedrooms. I awake in a maze of new things, new shapes, a new night geometry and the fog of half asleep confusion.
Crucially, where are my glasses? They are the first port of call in the middle of a night. They usually are ‘Right There’ and that ‘Right There’ is where I throw my left hand to find them in darkness. My body knows where to go usually. Now it doesn’t.
I haven’t yet found a new place for the specs so until I can find them (they’re on a dresser), I can’t see. Also, where’s my mobile phone which usually is also automatically Right There? It’s not in place. Nor is the button that turns on the bedside radio- it’s two inches too high. It’s not Right There either.
And more: where’s the doorknob to the bathroom, that room which is more and more essential in the middle of a black night? I can’t locate it. I find a hinge, an edge of a frame, a wooden bevelled corner. But no knob. Am I dreaming? No, I’m not dreaming because only seconds before I was walking down a melting road. And that, let me tell you, is dreaming. So, I am awake and, wow, why did that vicious corner of something attack my knee as I stumbled through the dark room?
‘An unfamiliar slice of nighttime light…’
And that drip, drip, drip. Where’d that come from? Where’s it going? Why is it there? My grammar of hearing has changed too.
I sleep in the embrace of this new dark landscape. There is no map. In my old bedroom, which will become a study to throw all my junk, paperwork and more junk, everything could be done by touch: finding glasses, the phone, the radio button, the doorknob. My arms, my hands, my fingers, my footsteps knew where to go. I didn’t need light in the night of a room.
And, of course, there are pleasing changes too. It’s not all confusing. Why is the hallway floor warm? Yes, of course, the underfloor heating which remains a bit of an underfloor mystery. It’s quieter too- there’s no thrum when the morning boiler turns on. No creak of pipes.
Last night, I awoke in the new room. There was a slice of light which I didn’t recognise. In the old room, eerily, the light from the street created a cross over my bed. That took a little getting used to.
Now there’s this new sort of light, not so much a cross but a horizontal streak where a street lamp, a moon, a neighbour’s late night, crawls through a ceiling window. And there’s a sigh I don’t recognise. It’s an exhale of stoney breathe from a 160 year old building. It’s still standing but maybe a bit into late middle age as it too tries to sleep.
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Ana
Moves are so disorienting for a couple weeks
Nick Dent
I always keep a flashlight by my bedside and always take one away with me; I find it invaluable
DR
Nighttime- One of the best….
Will Travel
Re that photo: I assume you dress in frock coats and high, stiff collars and read books bound in heavy leather.
Cash Connell
I can relate having to still gingerly find my way during the dark of night to pee several times..
Sarah McGill
No wonder you are disoriented. I don’t see a bed.
We geezers need to stick to the familiar or risk disorientation.
Judy Delucca
Love it!!
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