Asleep/Not Asleep

A sleepy glance at the digital numbers on the bedside clock confirmed her suspicion, one o’clock in the morning. She had fallen into an exhausted slumber at ten expecting to catch up from a week of soothing family friction, but her mind was racing. Another glance, two o’clock. She groaned, flipped her pillow, turned over and tried focusing her thoughts on her breathing, in, out, in, out.

The dark stillness of the night, once soothing and comforting, felt oppressive in its slow march toward morning.

Three o’clock, another hour of fragmented dwelling on words not spoken, words best not spoken.