Rest And Protest
In the last stretch of morning run, I push legs to a sprint. Tiredness catches up with inconvenient ease.
Stomach hurts and brain only thinks in blinks, it can't concentrate at all.
Lie on the sofa, sleep light.
Get up to drink some tea.
Marvel at the dog hair stuck to my clothes. I look like a feather.
Washing goes in machine, washing up goes under the tap…
I have too much enmity for inactivity.
My stomach hurts.
This evening I do not go to work. I may even watch some television.
For the last push of this lap, oomph must be revived.