They are still awake. Twenty six beds in two neat rows. Most filled, most asleep, some still rustling, some still moving. Their voices have only just calmed - what is it about these impish little minds that they can't understand the notion of "quiet brings sleep"? They rummage and sigh and complain. It's the heat, it's the noise, it's the people. It's everything and everyone but themselves. One of them rolls over in her sleep and I envy her, that she is able to rest and dream and recharge.
I stalk the dorm on soft feet and swing my head towards any noise made as if I can silence it with a look. And sometimes I can. They don't like my presence; it forces them to lay still and keep quiet. Tomorrow I will talk to them, these restless little girls. Tomorrow my tiredness will voice itself and tomorrow night... I hope for sleep.
I hear them breathing and this time no voice breaks the gentle rhythm. Maybe finally they are at rest. Their sleeping heads are taking them where I, right now, wish I was. And as they sink deeper into their dreams I sit here and record my thoughts.
I am the last one awake. Which means I am the last one to sleep.
About Me
- Blue Bird
- Isn't this what the blogging's for..? I write. I draw. I listen to music... alot. I have an obsession with the colour blue and any type of glass. If Orion or Cassiopeia or The Plough or the Seven Sisters were visible in the night sky I could point them out to you, and probably would, but I couldn't tell you if Jupiter was that bright star on the horizon or if Venus can only be seen in the morning, however much I'd like to be able to. My obsessions spread over to photos too - those small physical snapshots of memories to shake and reawaken feelings in your mind. I try recreate that with my writing, but don't often succeed - it's a harder task than it sounds. I find this is partly because I don't write enough... hence the reason I'm here, speaking my thoughts to a distinct lack of reader. It's all good.
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