He wasn’t exactly sure why he was so tired, but Pablo stared at the ceiling without seeing its white swirls or even that annoying dark spot he kept forgetting to repaint.
The morning light didn’t tempt him where it peeked around the blackout curtains that weren’t, nor did the chipper turquoise birds that reminded him he was being lazy.
It wasn’t the war, he decided, twisting the sheet in his fingers. It wasn’t even the loss of friend after family member after close friend. Nor was it his job, or the plague exposure, or even the wildfire smoke that tickled his throat with a constant albeit faint rasp.
No, he decided. It was all of that, combined. An endless barrage of Some Resiliency Required was wearing him thin, that was all.
And perhaps it would be enough to get some rest. There wasn’t anything he needed to do today, after all – it was only the usual, and though it compounded, he could catch up tomorrow.
“All right, guys, it’s time to go!”
The cheerful words shook him out of his stupor. Pablo found himself standing barefoot and trembling on the wooden floor, still clutching the sheet and wondering what miracle had brought his mother’s words back to life.
A turquoise bird poked at the gap between the curtains and trilled enthusiastically at him while tears poured from his eyes.
No, it didn’t matter what magic had been wrought, or if it had only been but a half-dream, a fugue of sleepless memory. Pablo bade his mother a wistful goodbye, and turned to face the sunlight once more.
In memory of Mary Ann.
***
This week, Padre unknowingly provided the perfect prompt: He wasn’t exactly sure why he was so tired, but…
Mine went to AC Young: “I said put out the freebies, not free bees!”