Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems
annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder
where it goes in the day.
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But
like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it
recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare
seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.