It was the first time six years. After about ten seconds, she realized the bed was not her's. Up she sat with a start.
"Hello?"
There was no reply. There was no snoring husband. There was no sound of a four year old running up and down the hallway in search of misplaced toys. She stepped onto the hardwoods and walked out the door into the hallway. The one bedroom apartment's furnishings were vaguely familar to her. The art on the walls was all hers, screen prints in vivid colors. There was a small stack of mail on the mid century modern coffee table. She picked up the electric bill addressed to her at 812 SE 29th AVE APT #4.
"This is real."
She sat on the couch and began to worry.