i rolled over on my side, arms wrapped loosely around my body, fingers on the left hand splayed over the small of my waist. everything was still. quiet. i needed to do something, anything. my fingertips curled in the slightest motion--nothing above the wrist even flinched--but still, waves of fatigue shot up my arm to the far realms of my body. even my eyelids, having to shift the weight of exhaustion in order to wince, were frustrated.
2.30 am 21 february, and i still can't sleep.