Exhaustion coats my bones like a blanket of woven lead. Aeons pass between blinks; a forever daubed with the ink of sleep. Thinking is a slow and endless sludge. Unsure of my own breath; I am to fall, smothered in lethargy that drapes about my thoughts. My head tips forwards in a graceless slump; it hangs, sinking into apathy. A creeping heaviness seeps up my legs, as if following the cold gaze of Medusa. I sit, suspended in silence.
Alas! the sleeping Kraken rises in search of coffee.