I awoke in a cold sweat, my thin pajamas clinging to my clammy skin. As
my heartbeat rang through my ears and I fought to catch my breath, I
looked out my fogged window to Gatsby striding from his open home
basking in the brilliant end of summer sun. The first thing my frantic
eyes noticed was the
bathing suit underneath his royal bathrobe. My
horrific nightmare had leaped from my restless mind out of the window
and on to Gatsby's promenade. I feared my dream was coming true. I
leaped out from underneath my sheets, pulled on last night's clothes that were carelessly strewn across the floor,
and stumbled through the
fog and into the early morning dew.
