I was exhausted, really and truly tired. My flesh was a weight on my bones, making me sluggish and unresponsive.
Regardless of my body’s all consuming desire for rest, my eyes, acting on the orders of my caffeinated brain, stayed open.
To close them would mean I would see it all again. It was bad enough when I blinked, but to sleep?
This was unimaginable. My eyes strained, staring blankly at the swirling mug of lukewarm coffee clutched desperately in my hands.
Nothing looked quite real.
Everything appeared washed of warmth and reduced to sharp flashes of unfeeling and violently bright color under the white florescent lights of our kitchen. My kitchen.