For My Eyes Only

  Last night was New Year's Eve, and the first one in my life that I've ever been  alone to welcome in the new year.  It was cold outside and turning slightly cold inside, as the thermostat has night-time setting of 66 degrees.  I went to bed to watch the rest of Dick Clark's Rocking New Year's show.  I watched almost right up to the countdown to the ball drop, but inexplicably fell asleep just before the big moment.  I woke up shortly after to see the partying and then the beginnings of the cleanup. No calls wishing a Happy New Year at this late hour, as in bygone years, so nothing  left for me to do but go back to sleep.
    I did and I had a dream that I can't seem to get out of my mind.  One of those moments in time dreams. Kind of like an  "Our Town" scene:
                 I heard a noise and I woke up. I felt scared so I got out of bed and walked down the narrow hallway of our house to the kitchen, which as I'd expected opened up to my mother's bedroom, upstairs in my old house. She was asleep, but woke up as I got to the side of her bed.  She asked if I wanted to get in and I said yes.  "Let me move over," she said, and I crawled in beside her. Dorothy asked why I'd felt afraid and I said it was because I hadn't set the security alarm before I went to bed, as I'd let the cat stay inside because it was so cold out in the room where it usually sleeps at night.  Nobody seemed surprised.  I fell asleep and when I woke up, 2018 happened.