Why Do I Wake up at 3 Am?

And whose face is that I never quite see?

Andy Travis
4 min readMar 23, 2021


Image by Sandry Rivera from Pixabay

I have been waking up a lot at 3 am lately to the same dream.

“I am in an exquisite grand hotel in one of those sin cities like Paris or Prague. The hotel is settling down to its routine of late-night rest and raves. I am wrapping up my work with my colleagues who seem exhausted and ready for bed. Unlike them, I am quite wired and wide awake. Hungry and seeking excitement from the dark.

I walk towards the lift and the door opens and an old man dressed immaculately in white walks out with his white labrador. He has a pencil-thin mustache that matches the color of his tuxedo. He smiles and nods at me like we have met several times before. At that instant, I have a strange sensation that I live in this hotel and not just visiting it. I notice that there is a man in the lift who is the lift operator. He smiles and pressed the number 10 on the board. But instead of the lift moving up, it moves sideways. Like a sky train. I am now traveling from one side of the hotel to another…

I get off the elevator into another giant reception hall. Gilded and cold. Black marble floors and white satin curtains that are at least 20 feet tall. They sway in the wind coming in from an open window. The night is lit up by a full moon.

I reach a door that is slightly ajar. Inside I can see the naked outline of a woman who is walking into the shower. I enter. I hear the water running. She is humming a song I know but can’t remember the words. On the bed are the jeans that she has just removed. They feel warm to touch. I can smell the perfume of her body that had just been in them. I am slightly aroused.

The window is open and the balcony outside is awash with the light of the full moon. It is so bright that I can see my shadow. The neon sign of the hotel is a bit faulty and one of the letters of the name keeps flickering. The letter e is blinking on and off.

I step back into the room and turn around to still hear the sound of the bathing woman in the shower. I have been in this room before. My bag is lying open in the corner, next to hers. My wallet is also on the table. Yet I have no memory of knowing who this woman is. On the bed is a note- `Join me.’



Andy Travis

A serial novelist, fascinated by what makes us tick, tickle & hide. https://www.amazon.com/author/andytravis