Reset Forty-One, Day Five

So there was a nap again, and I didn't resist it, as it was Saturday and there seemed to be nothing hanging over my head, no undone tasks that could be accomplished, nothing for which there was no excuse, and I could just let myself be tired and indulge myself. It was still light when the nap ended, and I went out to the mailbox, and the mild dusk felt like something I'd just recalled, but couldn't identify. It felt like something done, something that could be put away, neat and tidy and waiting for a time when it would be needed again, or even better, never.

Outside it has grown quite cool, and the traffic has died down, and the sound of the mini-metropolis is barely noticeable, though its lights still obscure the stars. Random thoughts come and go, like the vague breezes that stir the leaves, but nothing remains for long. It's almost as though the nap never ended, and I'm wandering about in some quiet dream, not quite real. For the time being, I'm not thinking much of anything. It's a relief. The inside of my head is almost as quiet as the sleeping world outside, where the only passersby are fluttering moths around the porchlight, who vanish when I turn it off. I should go back to sleep. Maybe I can dream of being a moth.


( Sunday Verse )