Cuthbert smiled a little, bitterly, and let himself drift. He'd been afraid that, after everything, he would still be unable to sleep. In fact, though, he was snoring loudly within a few minutes, dead to the world, to everyone else's pain, and to his own. He'd been afraid of dreaming, too. But he was too tired for dreams, too tired even for grief any more. When he slept, it was as deep and as easy as death.
Outside, the crickets were starting to sing, and dawn was just beginning to break on the horizon.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-02-25 11:07 pm (UTC)Outside, the crickets were starting to sing, and dawn was just beginning to break on the horizon.