yume

Ty woke to the title screen of the blue ray. The 19 second loop of music reverberated through his brain. A vestige of his brain just prior osmotically absorbing the vignette as he dozed. It was more than common that Ty would doze through the second half of a movie. It wasn't his fault, it was due to a few constants: a comfortable armchair with a footrest, a long day's work and habit, of course. He stood, his left knee uncomfortable, an old football injury. He limped through his room to his closet, hung his pants and shirt on a hook on the closet door and walked over to the bathroom and grasped his electric toothbrush. Rubbed his jaw as he moved to the bed where his wife was already snoring and groaned to his knees.
Prayer was no longer a habit for Ty, it was a necessity. Just like talking to your wife was necessary to keep a marriage alive, the professor had found that prayer was critical to the survival of his spirituality. In hi day and age, he felt as though things had seriously deteriorated since he was young. He remembered his mother and father saying the same thing. The fact that they said it made him wonder if it was simply a common sentiment expressed and felt by the aged. But of course, how would you be able to know how things were 50 years ago unless you were there. No one but the aged could really make comparisons to the time that they were young. Prayer was not a chant, nor a litany of requests and thankful-fors, for Ty, prayer was a conversation. He spoke to God, God spoke back, either in impressions, ideas or confirmatory feelings. Obviously all those answers didn't come instantly as one would prefer. Sometimes they took a severely long time. This eve, Ty mostly felt peace as he spoke to God about his wife and his children. He finished and climbed into bed, that's the last thing he remembered before the dream.