The Wake-Up Call

The warning signs were there. Looming in a obvious, bang-your-head-against-the-wall kind of way. Yet it took Astrid a while to receive the message: the relationship was over. She uncomfortably landed the guardian angel role, adamant that she would fix her broken-winged devil. Fortunately, her message was delivered to her subconscious in way that she couldn't ignore.

After wondering where he was that night and working her mind into a frenzy, she decided to go to bed early. Within minutes of laying her head on the pillow, she fell into a turbulent sleep. But instead of a nightmares, Astrid's mind took a turn. She 'awoke,' thinking someone was breaking into her upstairs apartment. Instinctively, she stood up, and kicked out the bedroom window behind her bed. In her sleepwalking state, she ignored the remaining glass shards and jumped from her 2-story perch. Mid free-fall, Astrid's survival mode awoke, telling her to straighten her legs in order to land on her feet. Trusting her instincts, Astrid managed to land on gravel with mild finger and knee cuts.

As Astrid recovered, a drunk startled her (even more) as he walked past the scene. He twirled and skidded along the sidewalk, coming to an abrupt stop near her crash site. "Whoa," he stammered. "I hate when that happens." Then as quickly as he arrived, he continued his stroll along the dimly lit path.

Finally wide awake, Astrid stood in her barrio neighborhood, a bleeding, pajama-wearing gringa. She limped to her next-door neighbor's overcrowded shanty and yelled, "Abre la puerta!" (Open the door.) Finally a curious, nervous Hispanic man appeared in the crooked doorway. "Si?" he muttered. (Astrid was relying on her limited college Spanish training, which didn't really flow given the circumstances.) The man managed to convey that Astrid should simply climb back up into the window from whence she came. (It was clear that he had no intention of inviting this crazed young woman into his humble abode.)

As the odd acquaintances struggled to communicate, Astrid's downstairs neighbor, Ben, arrived from a night spent reveling at a nearby pub. Like his predecessor, Ben stopped short, standing shocked amidst the gravel and Spanish and glass. "Astrid?" She whipped around, relieved to see her neighbor's face. His red hair tumbled around his face, which was filled with surprise and laughter. "Did you take acid?" he asked, unsure how Astrid had managed this stunt with limited injuries, and an ability to conjure Spanish conjugation terms. ""Um, yeah, that would explain it, right?" said Astrid. "Nope, just high on life." Ben was glad to see the jump had not affected her inner cynic.

He grinned. "Let's go figure this out. Where is that boyfriend of yours anyway?" said Ben. "Exactly," said Astrid. They left the confused neighbor standing on his porch, shaking his head.