The Empty Stare

The Blank Vessel

My mind became a blank vessel into which no water poured.

The road before me, seemed to stretch, with every step the task grew greater, the destination further away.

My brain was frozen, locked within itself by a wave of sleep. The merest speck of dust became compelling to my eye. The distant horizon collected my gaze and held it firm.

I simply cannot remain awake, and yet I must. The shadows have not even stopped standing on their heads. They will begin, soon, to stretch themselves out, along with the hours of the day. There is work to be done.

He is waking up at 6 am now. I don't know how he does it. Every morning, like 'clockwork', he rises out of bed. Without much more than a swat, he silences the alarm. Then he gets up. I lie there, like a weight is upon my head, until well past seven.

What has happened here? I used to get up early. But then, that was when early was eight o'clock. That was when he slept until eleven. Now, things have changed. I haven't changed quickly enough during this week.

Hopefully soon - I will adjust, or his resolve will crumble. Whichever comes first, I am not yet ready to predict. So here I go, off into the empty stare, which may be my home next week as well, or just until I wake up.