She sleeps . . .

First comes the yawns . . .

She yawns and yawns. And by the time she turns the page she yawns again. What’s wrong? she wonders as she feebly fights the onslaught of yet another yawn. Her mouth drops open, she stretches her jaw and her neck, and finds herself sighing uncontrollably.

Then, the headrest . . .

She rests her head on her hand knowing fully well this position is even more conducive for sleep. But the head is heavy, and her neck is weak, her shoulders under stress, and so she rests her head. But her eyes get heavy; and she tries to switch it up.

Followed by the eye-rubs . . .

In between the yawns, and the headrest, she rubs her eyes. Gently at first she massages them, lubricating them because they feel dry. And when she opens her eyes, there is a burst of energy but it only lasts for seconds. Soon she rubs her eyes like a child, with the back of her hands she’d rub her eyes. Then she bats her eyes open and involuntarily sighs, that deep languorous sigh.

getty_rf_photo_of_man_nodding_off_in_meeting

And the extended blink . . .

Each blink grows a little bit longer and takes a bit more effort to open again. A blink grows dangerous; for during the blinks the head rolls occur and she doesn’t know a thing.

And the head drop . . .

She rests her head on her hand again, and her eyes lose focus and begin to close. She gives in and her head drops . . . as she falls fast asleep, despite her very best efforts.

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