Gasp

the old man was so tired. He missed his wife. Gone for so long that not even the ghost of her scent lingered in their bed. 

he drifted into sleep and tore awoke with frightened starts, again and again.

like one who is terrified of flying yet cannot help from dozing in their seat. 

each languid blink a howl for survival.

so tired.

the blurred outline of a pill bottle on his bedside dresser careened in an out of focus with each weakened gasp against the deep, drowning tide of sleep.

he missed her so much, and he was so tired.