He'd collapsed near the foot of his bed, too tired to finish the journey to his rest.
What mattered the difference? On the floor or on a mattress, the following day's struggles would come.
Let gravity win out this time.
Let us submit.
Then, as if in stark reply, the man's arm snaked itself across the floor, and finger-tipped it's way to the foot of the bed. The hand grabbed hold of the solid frame its owner's body slightly nearer.
The mind had given up, but the rest would not allow a floor side slumber.
"Even this, I must fight?" He whined, "Even now?"
"Even this." Came the gentle reply, "Even now."
Gradually the man found himself in the fetal position beneath the covers of his bed.
His mind ready to be at ease. To let subconsciousness perform it's midnight miracles ...
"I'm sorry." He thought.
"I forgive you." He replied.
"Thank you." He sighed.
"You're welcome." He assured.
All of him would be grateful, in a few short hours, for this simple comfort.
Treat yourself gently.
Acknowledge when you are not.
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