Unidentified pain wakes me, though awareness filters slowly. Stiffness screaming, I reach for my phone. 3:47 a.m. I want sleep, but silence worms into my ears and the layers of pain clarify. One clear winner radiates from my bladder. Familiar, unwanted, and insistent. Channeling zombified rigidity, my joints groan as I stand, knee popping with every step to the bathroom, and grimacing to sit on the toilet. Pressure releases. A dull ache fills its void. Washing hands, I want to sip water from the tap. My back disagrees. My chronic pain and I return to the promise of sleepless warmth.
Lori Aghazarian lives with her husband, two home-schooled kids, two kittens, and chickens. She is currently writing a synopsis for her finished novel.