Morning silence, an unseen bird chirps alone. Grey skies stream through the window, the day a canvas for broken dreams.
Climb the stairs, close the door. Think no more about things. That big pile of things waiting. It can wait. Slip into time. Time before. Just you, your room. Music on, lights low. Lay on the bed. Stare at the ceiling. That blank space. Listen. Breathe. Hypnotise. Hibernate.
Hours pass slowly
Time ticking in stop motion