I wake up as a violent coughing fit wrecks my body as if it's trying to expel the blood flowing into my lungs. Panicked, my hands find their way towards my throat. Touching, feeling, testing if anything is wrong.

Only after several seconds of violent struggling, coughing, and screaming do I calm down enough to realize that nothing was wrong with me. There was no hole in my throat, no blood.

I cough several more times, my throat dry and scratchy.

In the end, it was all a dream. A strange, violent nightmare.

Once I'm calmed down, I blindly feel around my bedside table, throwing something to the floor in the quest to find my smartphone.

I turn it on. Forced to realize my stupidity, I shield my eyes from the bright light of the display. Only when my eyes got somewhat used to the light do I dare to look at it again.

6:30am. Half an hour earlier then I would wake up on a normal Monday.

With a sigh I go into the options, turning off the alarm. Thirty minutes, a number that always annoys me. Long enough to make me feel I shouldn't waste it, but too short to actually get anything done. Also to short to go back to sleep.

With a grunt I roll myself out of my bed, almost falling on the floor when my leg refuses to carry my weight this early in the morning. Looking on the floor, I see what I threw down earlier. My pocket watch.

One of those old fancy, ones attached to a chain. I'm not someone who keeps many photos. People always say that they make them too remember people of moments. I know many people like that, but hardly any of them actually look at them ever again.

That's why I like mementos to be useful. Whenever I want to know the time, this pocket watch reminds me of my grandfather.

I pick it up and wind up the mechanism like every morning.

With half an hour to waste before I have to sit in my first lecture for the day, I take a cold shower to wake me up all the way and put on trousers and a t-shirt.

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Looking at the weather forecast, I realize that it's going to be a cold day. Well, it's winter, so I'm not surprised, but a man can still hope.

Unable to find a different one, I take a sniff from the hoodie I was wearing over the weekend. It's still going to work for a day or two, but I really need to wash some clothes. But with the public washing machine busted, I have to either visit my parents or find a washing salon. Neither of which I have the nerve for at the moment.

I take my phone from the charger, quickly checking my social media in case any of my lectures today got canceled, and put it in my pocket with a disappointed sigh. A man can hope.

I attach the pocket watch to a belt loop and put it in the other pocket after looking at it, the chain dangling at my side. 6:55am.

With almost forty minutes before I have to leave, I go Into the kitchen and whip up some breakfast.

Normally I wouldn't have time for this on a weekday and would just get something from the bakery on the way. Between that and my weekends that always start with lunch, this may be the first time in months I actually had a proper breakfast.

Good thing or the moldy cheese might have lived in my fridge for another month. At that point, I fear, it might have grown teeth and tried to eat me instead. Some might have called that just revenge, but I had no plan of letting that happen. One nightmare a day is more than enough.

As I almost reach a meditative state of mind while looking in the open fridge, I finally spot two eggs.

Taking out the pan I haven't used in forever, I quickly make myself some fried eggs on toast.

With a hot breakfast, an even hotter cup of coffee, and a smoke, I sit at the open window, savoring the very fresh, and very cold, morning air.

Leisurely sitting at the window, I realize that this is actually quite relaxing and start contemplating the pros and cons of making this a routine. Well, mainly the cons, and mostly the fact that I have to wake up half an hour earlier, and decide against it.

While I still have the last few sips of coffee in my cup, by now only lukewarm, I hear the bells from the nearby church ringing. It is a matter I'm lamenting every morning as I have to get ready to leave the house at 7:30am. It would have been perfect if the bells wouldn't start ringing five minutes too late.

Every time I'm still at home when they ring, it feels like they are mocking me, telling me: "Look, you are too late again."

I a rare moment of pure annoyance I even went to the church administration once and asked them to fix it. In turn, they asked me to pay an amount of money no sane person, especially not a student, would pay to get a clock fixed. Seriously, it's not even like it's damaged, it just shows the wrong time.

I quickly close the window, almost throwing my cup out in the process.

Grimacing as I drink the last mouthful of already cold coffee, I quickly put on my jacket and look into my backpack. It had already seen better days, but it was still faithfully doing its job.

I grunt as I put it on my back. The pro of having all my materials in a single folder was that it becomes very hard to forget the stuff you need, which I'm very prone to doing. The con is, that your bag becomes very heavy, very fast.

Suddenly, the dream comes back to mind, still strangely clear in my memory for a dream. What was it again? Overskill pocket dimension? It would definitely be very convenient... for a situation like... this...

My mind grinds to a halt as my eyes fall on the dark blue circle hovering in front of me.

"The fu...?"