Gray

[rejectomorph]

This morning, the sky has decided to look like winter. All night, the clouds thickened and the moon grew less distinct, its light less direct, until everything was a shadowless glow. Now the early morning light reveals massy gray clouds which admit no shaft of dawn. The birds are subdued. A single, silent jay perches on the highest utility wire, watching the gray east.


I slept a bit last night, though never for long. There is no comfortable sleeping position when your neck goes awry. I think I'm beginning to show the effects of missing solid blocks of sleep. Concentration grows more difficult, and errors multiply in every task. The headache is sometimes more intense, sometimes less. I don't like the light. I'm glad it's a gray morning.