Sleep is a thief.
It plucks away hours, devouring them like commodities, gorging itself on time as if it isn't precious.
I deny it a meal. Stealing hours in futility.
Sleep will never starve.
I binge on caffeine and cheap stories hardly worth the thrill in an attempt to claim what is rightfully mine, but sleep is a sneaky bastard. It creeps up on you and takes away the minutes before you even know you're slipping.
Sleep is a thief, and yet it is mine. I am frustrated at its existence with the same futility as being angry at my left hand for holding the right. Yet, like my name, my skin, my very heartbeat- my ownership of it is powerless.
Despite this, sleep is still mine, and I am enraged when it is stolen from me, all this sleight-of-hand undercutting of things most precious makes me irritable.
Noise is the thief this time. The honks and shouts of passing road-rage smashes through my window, snatching sleep right out from under me.
Sometimes in all this larceny I forget that time is the greatest thief of all, eventually it will take everything from me and won’t even remember my name.
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Obsidian Words
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By Leigh Hooperabout 13 hours ago in Fiction
Comments (6)
I love this one! I know today, I certainly wonder where my sleep slunked off to, as well as my time...
GREAT WORK!!! KEEP THEM COMING !!!
Awesome take on this challenge! I always say I'd have enough time if I didn't have to sleep and eat 😅 Very poetic and meaningful entry!
I enjoyed this take! good work.
Super good. Love the journey you took us on with this one. Your ending paragraph/conclusion was very impactful. Awesome work! (And sorry for your long night… I get the feeling this piece was inspired by true events.)
Of course, time is the greatest thief, but the ore you worry about it the more harm it will do to you