Date: March 5th, 2132

  Day 92 - Third Rotation

  Time: 0545 - Pre-shift

  Up since 0430. Another fucking nightmare.

  Same corridor. Always the same corridor. White walls, white floor, white ceiling stretching impossibly long. I'm wearing a robe - not mine, something institutional, rough fabric. The red door at the end. I can see it clearly. I NEED to get to it. Can't explain why, just this overwhelming pull toward it.

  My legs won't move. It's like they're made of lead, or like I'm standing in concrete that's already set. I'm straining, pushing, forcing every muscle to just take one step forward.

  Then it happens.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The walls start bending. Not like they're collapsing - like reality is folding in on itself. The corridor twists into shapes that shouldn't exist. Angles that make my eyes hurt. The geometry goes wrong and my brain can't process what it's seeing. The red door is simultaneously in front of me and behind me and above me and I can't—

  I woke up soaked in sweat. Heart pounding. Sheets drenched.

  It's been every night this week. Every. Single. Night.

  And my cycle's fucked. Was supposed to start yesterday. Nothing. Stress, probably. Or the sleep deprivation. Or living in artificial gravity at 40 AU from the sun. Or all of it.

  I hate this. I hate the dream. I hate waking up like this. I hate that I can still see that fucking red door when I close my eyes.

  I need a drink. Might stop by Maintenance after shift - Patel usually has something tucked away in the equipment lockers. Station regulations be damned.

  0600 shift starts in fifteen minutes.

  Pull yourself together, Mae.

  [Entry ends]