Thursday 10 January 2013

Snore Race


I'd been running on empty all day and now tiredness washed over me; it was like running through miles and miles of bed sheets hung out on the line to dry, wave after wave of heaviness, tangling me relentlessly. I stifled a yawn. The room was airless and soulless, the meeting boring, frustrating, fruitless, endless. I pinched my arm again trying to keep awake. I was in a constant fight with my eyelids, they wanted to be shut oh so badly. They were so heavy it felt like I was lifting a 10 ton weight just keeping them open, but I had to keep them open; I was so full of cold and so tired that I knew that if I let the eyelids win I would be asleep in seconds and snoring like a fat, lazy hippopotamus. Ian droned on, Clive spoke over him and Cynthia yelled over the pair of them, meanwhile Dave and Lucy were having their own private conversation. If all these people were speaking, who the hell was listening? And how could so many words be used but so little of substance be said. I could feel my head begin to droop, slowly moving downwards and then snapping back into place only for the process to start again. I wished I could open a window but if I tried that I would be met with howls of derision. I wished I get up and walk around but that was not the done thing. I was trapped. Suddenly there was a throaty, growling snore, it startled me, roused me; I realised to my horror that I had let my eyelids win and that snore must have come from me. Silence filled the room and I knew as soon as I opened my eyes, 9 pairs would be staring back at me. I gingerly peeked out, but I'd got away with it, they weren't looking at me, and there was that growl again. Much to my  relief Henry our boss had beaten me in the snore race and was sleeping soundly next to me. 

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