An Endless Cycle

            Never had going to sleep sounded so good.
            As Cassy walked into the house and shed her coat and boots, she pictured going straight to bed, collapsing face-first into a pillow, and sleeping until morning. Oh, that sounded amazing. The idea sent a last-ditch burst of energy through her, and she was on her way there when she saw the clock. 8 pm.
            Pausing, she frowned. Some, small, childish part of her rebelled at the idea of going to bed that early. The little spurt of energy faded like a taunting memory as the cogs of her brain locked and stuttered. She hesitated for what could have been minutes or hours, caught up in the fog. Then, her eyes locked on a book.
            Perfect. She would read for an hour and then go to bed. Relieved to be done with thinking, she walked to the bookshelf and grabbed an old favorite. The simple act of sinking into the comfortable chair felt like heaven. When she opened the book, she sank into the story just as easily. The familiar words and well-loved characters pulled her through the fog until it was a dim memory. Only the story existed for her as she raced with the characters through danger and conflict until at last, all was resolved.
            With one last sigh of pleasure, she closed the book and looked at the clock.
            “Shit.”


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