A white glow pierced through the darkness and created a safe bubble around you. You glanced down at the clock in the corner of your computer screen, only to groan at how late it was. You could feel that your eyes and body were tired, but you could not peel yourself away from Deviantart and stupid little things that kept appearing and stealing your attention. Without meaning to, you were procrastinating from slipping into a cosy and welcoming slumber; it wasn't the first time that had happened though.
A ghostly figure walked to your side. You didn't turn your head to greet your new companion, as your drying eyes were locked with the screen flicking the pretty light onto you. The radiance danced in the mirror formed by your half closed eyes; It wasn't a struggle to keep them open, but the luminosity against the pitch black around you made your eyes narrow and squint, as if they were tr
When the letter arrived with the rest of the mail, I had my head pressed against the wall. It wasn't some yoga or pilates thing. It was a frustration thing. With myself.
Just a few feet away, I had my hobby shelves. They were arranged in a mottled pattern with some shelves done and others missing. Many leaned dangerously to the side. Not a style choice.
First volumes of mangas and anime DVDs on one level. Scraps of knitting right below that. Dust swaddled "greats" of literature to the side. Juggling balls of assorted colors (none of them matching). A folder of sketched figures often missing legs and arms. A camera with a half-finished roll of film. Pristine cookbooks
I turned my attention back to the wall. Any of one of them could be useful for this free-time I had. But my attention drifted between them without settling on any.
Eventually, I made my way over to my computer and decided to check on a recent poem I'd started. With a deep breath, I set my sho
You felt a hand trail gently down your back. Rubbing your eyes, you groggily shifted in bed.
"Go to sleep Feli." You muttered, pulling the blankets up to your chin. The person behind you sighed, his warm breath tickling your skin.
You had just drifted off the sleep when a flurry of movements snapped you out of your stupor. You husband was walking across the bedroom towards the bathroom door.
"Jesus Christ." You grumbled, pulling your pillow over your head.
It was just your luck to marry an insomniac. Seeing as you had the same problem, you were constantly waking each other up.
"I can't-a sleep." He grumbled, you snorted your head still covered by the pillow.
"You find-a that funny?" You weren't sure if it was amusement or anger that laced his words. His hands grabbed your sides, tickling them.
"Ah, ha please don't Feli!" You squealed, shoving his hands away. "I'm trying to sleep."
He gave you a tired smile,
Wide eyes continuously peered into the darkness. It was one of those nights. You listened to the antique chimes as every second passed, wondering why you got that annoying thing in the first place. Although your eyes felt heavy, they could never close.
You had insomnia.
"Shit" the word slipped past your filter. You grabbed a pillow and viciously threw it. The cushion hit the large wooden clock, but that still didn't calm the nerves pulsing in your mind. Abruptly standing, your fingers rummaged through the disheveled locks atop your head, legs pacing the small bedroom. The number one rule to lessen the effects of insomnia was to not look at the time--
'3:38' the dial hands read.
One sheep. Two sheep. Three--shit! Frustration continued to build as a long groan left your mouth.
"Sleep!" you scolded yourself, flopping into bed and flailing with the sheets, "God dammit, sleep!". As your movement stopped, everything started feeling hopeless. The realizatio